The Sorting Hat is Always Right
by Maris Slytherin
Summary: The Sorting Hat finally gets its wish and resorts Harry into Slytherin. How will this alter the events of PoA? Eventual D/H slash, but not until later years. I may cover GoF, too. But, no D/H slash in the near future. CURRENTLY INACTIVE.
1. Where Do I Belong?

Author's note: Hi everyone! My first fic on Fanfiction.net. For my story, I have very closely or exactly copied some dialogue from JK Rowlings' original book Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. I felt it was necessary 1. So that you don't have to go back and re-read it and 2. Becaue I want to change some things, even if just slightly. I don't own it, it's JK's work. I take NO CREDIT for the parts that you recognize. Ok? ^_^ By the way, MAJOR spoilers for the end of CoS (if you haven't read it, don't read this!). Also, have book 3 on hand - I'm sorry, but it wouldn't be right to copy the ENTIRE chapter from it, and there's one chapter that I'm not changing at all. For those of you who remember sufficiently, I will merely post a summary of the chapter. ^_^  
  
And yes, there will eventually be slash between Harry and DRACO. I think they're just too cute together! And yes, this did start out with me intending for it to be Harry/Severus. It kind of switched around chapter 8. ::sweatdrop:: If you have a problem, don't read. ^^; I promise I'll put up a Harry/Severus sometime, ok? I love them, too (and Remus/Sirius! Yay!) Please feel free to e-mail me! With homework and such, updates will be a bit slow- my goal (which I will inevitably fail to meet) is one chapter a week. Kinda. Maybe. Hehe. anyway. Maris Slytherin  
  
P.S. How do you get tabs to show up? It just comes up for me as one huge paragraph. That's why there are so many spaces.. Sorry! If you have a solution, I'll repost any chapters that have this problem.  
Harry Potter and the Re-sorting  
  
"Sit down, Harry," Professor Dumbledore bade, his voice gentle. Harry sat, hoping his knees didn't betray his state of extreme nervousness. His mind flashed back to what had just happened to him in the past hours. Voldemort. Or, more accurately, a memory of him. Tom Riddle, as he had been called, had brilliantly preserved himself in a diary. With Ginny Weasley's aid, he had terrorized Hogwarts and its occupants once again- Harry, once again, had stopped him. He felt a wave of unexpected regret wash over him. The basilisk had been a strangely beautiful creature. Its scales were like dark green and black jewels, and its eyes had glowed gold with a strange power. And Tom, too. Harry felt that they could have been friends, if he'd dropped the whole killing off mudbloods and muggles thing. He sighed.  
  
"You're tired, I know," the headmaster said, misinterpreting the sigh. "But first of all, Harry, I want to thank you. You must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber. Nothing but that could have called Fawkes to you."  
  
The phoenix alighted on Harry's knee and he stroked the soft, red feathers, grinning at it. It had saved his life, and helped him to kill the basilisk. His grin faded a bit. What a magnificent creature it had been. A voice nagged him. Loyalty, Potter? it whispered. All you did was state a fact, that Albus Dumbledore is said by everyone to be the greatest wizard in the world. Harry didn't know where the thought had come from, but his mind was too burnt-out to really combat it. In fact... did he hear a hint of triumph in Dumbledore's voice? The Boy Who Lived, a vessel of supposedly immense powers, was loyal to him? Surely, Harry thought, that can't be what he means.  
  
"And so you met Tom Riddle. I imagine he was most interested in you..."  
  
Harry shifted. The way Dumbledore said that made him uncomfortable. As if he was a specimen. For the first time, he truly wondered how Dumbledore felt about him. Was he a boy? An actual person? Or just The Boy Who Lived, an intriguing miracle to be studied and protected? Would... would Dumbledore have even liked him, had he come to Hogwarts under different circumstances? Surely he'd not be as powerful, then. He was a worse student than either of his parents, he guessed. And how many times had he broken rules or gotten into trouble and been excused... just because he was the Harry Potter?  
  
"Professor Dumbledore." No, he couldn't just ask, like that! What would Dumbledore think? What would he do? Restrict Harry's freedom? Not trust him? Another question, quick... "Riddle said I'm like him. Strange likenesses, he said..."  
  
"Did he now?" Dumbledore pondered. He gave Harry a thoughtful look. "And what do you think, Harry?" Well, at least he was asking Harry a real question, one that involved thinking, not just being a celebrity.  
  
"I don't think I'm like him," was the answer Harry gave. In truth, he did think they looked alike. They'd both lost their parents at an early age. But, still... "I mean, I'm - I'm in Gryffindor, I'm..." He paused. It was true, he was in Gryffindor. But, was that where he was meant to be? He'd made his decision based on his bad impression of Malfoy. But surely there was more to Slytherin than Draco Malfoy! "Professor, the Sorting Hat told me I'd - I'd have done well in Slytherin. Everyone thought I was Slytherin's heir for a while. because I can speak Parseltongue..." He fell silent.  
  
"You can speak Parseltongue, Harry, because Lord Voldemort - who is the last remaining ancestor of Salazar Slytherin - can speak Parseltongue." Harry's eyes widened. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I'm sure..."  
  
"Voldemort put a bit of himself in me?" Harry repeated, a sudden understanding coming to him.  
  
"It certainly seems so."  
  
"So I should be in Slytherin," he breathed. Of course, it all made sense. He didn't feel violated - it wasn't as if he WAS part of Voldemort. The powers had been there for eleven years; what he didn't understand was that this didn't bother him in the least. He met Dumbledore's eyes. He murmured, "The Sorting Hat could see Slytherin's power in me, and it-"  
  
"Put you in Gryffindor, " the old man cut him off calmly. "Listen to me, Harry. You happen to have many qualities Salazar Slytherin prized in his hand-picked students. His own very rare gift, Parseltongue. resourcefulness. determination. and a certain disregard for rules," he added pointedly. "Yet the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor. You know why that was. Think."  
  
It seemed to Harry that Dumbledore was being unfair now. He knew that the Headmaster tried to be fair, but, no matter how much he denied it, he was biased. Gryffindor was his old house, and Gryffindors had always had a bit of rivalry with Slytherins. But, he thought about the question that had been posed to him, why was I not put in Slytherin, if I have the qualities? Ah, of course... Malfoy...  
  
He explained, "It only put me in Gryffindor because I asked not to go into Slytherin."  
  
"Exactly!" beamed Dumbledore. He looked like he was about to say more, but Harry cut him off.  
  
"Professor, I'm sorry, but... you don't understand. I grew up with Muggles. I had no idea what the houses were like. I only knew that Draco Malfoy had been mean to me, and I wanted to avoid him. That's the only reason why I asked not to go into Slytherin."  
  
Dumbledore's smile faded a bit. "My dear boy, the Sorting Hat isn't easily influenced by what you want..."  
  
"It's not easy to speak Parsletongue, either, Professor. Hasn't Voldemort got a gift for getting his way? Maybe he transferred that, too..."  
  
"Harry," he said seriously, leaning toward him. "What are you saying?"  
  
Harry was silent. What was he saying? Finally, he said, "I think I'm saying that it was just for a silly reason that I wasn't put into Slytherin. I'm not saying that I have anything against Gryffindors or anything, Professor, I just... Well, I want to be sure I'm in the right place. The Sorting Hat's never been wrong before, has it?" He squirmed in his seat. He had never contradicted Dumbledore before.  
  
Dumbledore's blue eyes seemed to stare at him as if he'd never seen him before. Wordlessly, he picked up the sword from where it lay on his desk. He handed it to Harry, who looked down at it confusedly. It was silver, with huge rubies imbedded in the hilt, and still stained with the basilisk's blood. He turned it over in his hands, and was about to ask Dumbledore what he was supposed to see when something caught his eye. Just below the hilt the words 'Godric Gryffindor' were engraved in a flowery script. He looked back up at Dumbledore for an explanation.  
  
"Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat, Harry," he said, his voice heavy.  
  
Harry was silent. That was true, and yet. he hadn't pulled it out of the hat. It had fallen out. Rather painfully too, and he reddened at the memory. All he had done was ask - plead - for help. He pondered this. That did sound like a rather un-Slytherin thing to do, he admitted. So, what.? Suddenly he knew. He recalled that night when he and Ron, huddled in a corner of Hagrid's cabin under the Invisibility Cloak, had seen Dumbledore lead away. ". help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it." The words came back to him. Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw... help would be given no matter who asked for it. And what else could Fawkes have brought? He eyed the phoenix thoughtfully. It blinked lazily back at him and hooted softly.  
  
Finally, Dumbledore opened a drawer and took out a quill and some ink. "What you need, Harry, is some food and sleep. You're not thinking straight. I suggest you go down to the feast, while I write to Azkaban - we need our gamekeeper back. And I must draft an advertisement for the Daily Prophet, too... We'll be needing a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher... Dear me, we do seem to run through them, don't we?" He gave Harry a look that clearly meant the meeting was over.  
  
Harry stood up and had just reached the door when it flew open. In a rage, Lucius Malfoy strode in, Dobby the house elf following miserably behind. Harry stared.  
  
"Good evening, Lucius," Dumbledore greeted him politely.  
  
Mr. Malfoy swept past Harry and stared into Dumbledore's ice-blue eyes. "So! You've come back. The governors suspended you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts," he spat.  
  
Dumbledore smiled serenely up at him. "Well, you see, Lucius, the other eleven governors contacted me today. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They'd heard that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all. Very strange tales they told me, too... Several of them seemed to think that you had threatened to curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place."  
  
Lucius Malfoy paled, but the sneer seemed to be a permanent fixture on his twisted lips. "So - have you stopped the attacks yet? Have you caught the culprit?"  
  
"We have," the Headmaster beamed.  
  
"Well? Who is it?"  
  
"The same person as last time, Lucius. But this time, Lord Voldemort," here, Lucius shivered, "was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary." Dumbledore held the book up and watched the wizard for his reaction.  
  
Harry's attention, however, was drawn to Dobby. The elf stared at Harry while pointing to the diary, then to Mr. Malfoy, and then promptly thumping himself on the head very hard.  
  
"I see." Mr. Malfoy responded slowly.  
  
Dumbledore looked sternly at Mr. Malfoy. "A clever plan, because if Harry here and his friend Ron hadn't discovered this book, why - Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever have been able to prove she hadn't acted of her own free will... And imagine what might have happened then. The Weasleys are one of our most prominent pure-blood families. Imagine the effect on Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act, if his own daughter was discovered attacking and killing Muggle- borns... Very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Riddle's memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise."  
  
"Very fortunate," Mr. Malfoy snarled.  
  
Suddenly, Harry understood Dobby's cryptic message. He nodded his thanks, and Dobby miserably twisted his ears, punishing himself for revealing his master.  
  
"Don't you want to know how Ginny got hold of that diary, Mr. Malfoy?" Harry asked coldly.  
  
The man spun and glared at him. "How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?" he whispered dangerously.  
  
"Because you gave it to her," Harry retorted. " In Flourish and Blotts. You picked up her old Transfiguration book and slipped the diary inside it." He could tell by the look on Mr. Malfoy's face that he had gotten it right. "Didn't you, Mr. Malfoy?" he narrowed his eyes.  
  
"Prove it," he hissed.  
  
"Oh, no one will be able to do that," Dumbledore interjected, shooting a calculating look at Harry. "Not now that Riddle has vanished from the book. On the other hand, I would advise you, Lucius, not to go giving out any more of Lord Voldemort's old school things. If any more of them find their way into innocent hands, I think Arthur Weasley, for one, will make sure they are traced back to you..." He was no longer smiling.  
  
Hesitating a moment, Lucius Malfoy spun on his heel and wrenched open McGonnagal's office door. "We're going, Dobby!" He stormed out, kicking the elf before him.  
  
Furious at the way his friend was treated, he grabbed the diary off the desk. "Professor Dumbledore, can I give that diary back to Mr. Malfoy, please?"  
  
"Certainly, Harry. But hurry, the feast, remember..."  
  
But Harry was already out of the office. Hopping along the corridor, he hurriedly yanked off one of his now-slimy socks and stuffed the diary into it. A few moments later, he had caught up with them.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, I've got something for you-" he panted, shoving the disgusting sock into the man's hand.  
  
"What the-?" Mr. Malfoy ripped off the sock, throwing it aside, and spoke in deadly tones to Harry: "You'll meet the same sticky end as your parents one of these days, Harry Potter. They were meddlesome fools, too. Come, Dobby. I said, come!"  
  
Grinning, Harry watched as Dobby held up Harry's sock, a look of wonder on the elf's face. "Got a sock. Master threw it, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby - Dobby is free!" he whispered gleefully.  
  
Mr. Malfoy lunged at Harry. "You've lost me my servant, boy!" he howled.  
  
"You shall not harm Harry Potter!" Dobby yelled, and Mr. Malfoy was thrown backward. He tumbled down the staircase and lay in a crumpled heap below. Dobby raised a finger in warning. "You shall go now. You shall not touch Harry Potter. You shall go now."  
  
Harry watched, smirking, as Lucius Malfoy furiously stormed out of sight. Suddenly, his stomach growled, and he realized that the Headmaster had been right - he needed food. So, giving Dobby a quick hug, he hurried out of sight. Dobby's cries of thanks followed him down the hall.  
The feast lasted all through that night, and the rest of the term passed quickly, afterward. DADA classes had been cancelled, obviously, but, other than that, Hogwarts was pretty much back to normal. Hermione and the other victims had woken up with no lasting harm done, and people had apologized to Harry for suspecting him as Slytherin's heir. However, whenever they mentioned this, Harry had to think back to the discussion he had had with Dumbledore the night he had escaped from the Chamber with Ginny. Slytherin's heir, eh? He knew he wasn't - Tom Riddle was. But he could see, now, how likely a suspect he had been.  
  
At night, nobody knew, but he stayed awake for hours. He knew what he wanted to do, but, for one thing, didn't know if it was possible, for another, didn't know if it was allowed, and last, didn't know how anyone would react to it. He always sighed, rolled over, and fell into a restless sleep, those same three questions plaguing even his dreams. 


	2. Surprising Slytherins

Author's Note: Next chapter! Yes, we're still in the CoS timeline. ^_^ More soon.  
  
Maris Slytherin  
Harry Potter and the Re-Sorting: Chapter 2  
  
Finally, on the last day before he was to return to the Dursleys, he had made up his mind. Telling Hermione and Ron that he wanted to discuss his classes for next year (which was, in a way, true), he walked determinedly to the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the Headmaster's office. "Lemon Drop," he told the statue, and it jumped aside. He stepped onto the spiral staircase and let it take him up to Dumbledore's door. He felt only a momentary pang of guilt for using his knowledge of the password, but guessed that Dumbledore wouldn't mind all that much. He raised his hand to rap on the door, but the Headmaster's voice called, "Come in!" before he had touched the wood. He raised an eyebrow, but opened the door and stepped inside.  
  
The room was as he remembered it - circular, full of odds and ends. The walls were covered with portraits of old Headmasters and Headmistresses. A couple glanced at him. He noticed that only one or two of them were in Slytherin colors. On the shelf behind Dumbledore lay two objects - Godric Gryffindor's sword, once more blood-free, and the Sorting Hat. He swallowed and stepped into the room.  
  
"Please, sit, Harry," Dumbledore smiled at him. "Would you like a lemon drop?"  
  
"Er... no thanks," he declined. He sat down in one of the huge armchairs facing the desk. His feet didn't touch the floor, and he felt very small indeed. It didn't help him to muster his courage.  
  
"Harry... is this about what you mentioned last time?" Dumbledore asked finally, his voice tired, but gentle.  
  
Harry nodded. His eyes flickered to the Sorting Hat, but it lay on the shelf gathering dust. His gaze returned to the Headmaster.  
  
"Harry. What have you been thinking about?" his voice was serious. "Are you still unsure of the decision the Sorting Hat made?"  
  
"That's just it- it wasn't the Hat's decision. It was mine," he countered, "and an uninformed one a that! Professor, Gryffindor is fine, but I just..."  
  
The old man in front of him sighed. "You just need to know, is that it, Mr. Potter? I understand," he massaged his temples. Harry suddenly wondered where the 'Mr. Potter' had come from. Was Dumbledore... disappointed in him? For what? Not being the perfect Gryffindor he'd expected?  
  
"Harry? Harry, I don't know what you want me to do. I can't just switch your house because you think you'd like to be in another."  
  
"I didn't say-" he stopped. Did he want to be in another? Wasn't Gryffindor a good place? But something in him had to know. He sighed. "I guess I don't know what I want. Does it even matter? I just need to know where I'm supposed to be."  
  
Dumbledore seemed to have come to a decision about something. He pointed his wand at the fireplace and green flames sprang up. "Severus? Would you mind assisting me for a moment?"  
  
Harry heard a soft voice from the flames reply, "Of course not, Albus. I'll be there in a moment." He was surprised - it had certainly been his Potions Master's voice, but where was the hatred? The sneer? The superiority? He reasoned, Snape can't be bad all the time. Dumbledore is his friend, right? Or at least, someone who he respects. I don't know if Snape has any friends. But... that was... odd. For some reason Harry felt lighter, knowing that his Potions Master wasn't all bad. It would make classes more bearable if he knew it was mostly an act.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted as the door opened behind him. Snape, he guessed.  
  
"Yes, Albus?" the soft voice came. Snape couldn't see him, Harry realized, the chair was too big. Not wanting to seem like he was eavesdropping, Harry leaned forward in his chair a bit, letting the teacher know he was there. Snape's eyes widened slightly, but in a moment his face was once again the cold mask that Harry and his fellow students were used to. "Mr. Potter. Headmaster, has the boy managed to get into trouble even on his last day?" Harry decided he liked Snape's other voice better. He suddenly wished he could hear it again. I guess it's reserved for people he likes, he thought to himself.  
  
The Headmaster's eyes twinkled. "Au contraire, Professor Snape. The boy merely had a.... notion... that I thought might interest you. Come, come, Severus. We can do without the Potions Master for a moment, how about giving us the Slytherin Head of House."  
  
Snape arched an eyebrow. His pale skin contrasted starkly with the jet- black hair that hung about his shoulders. "I'm sure I have no idea what you mean, Albus," he replied mildly. "Are you suggesting a split personality? I assure you, I haven't one."  
  
"Perhaps two, then, Severus?" Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. Snape's lips twitched, and he sat in the unoccupied chair. Harry noted with some satisfaction that the Potions Master's feet barely touched the ground. Amused, he swung his legs and looked at Snape. Snape regarded him down his nose, then turned back to Dumbledore.  
  
"A notion, Albus? What kind of a notion, exactly? If it's about decorating my dungeon, again..." he looked most horrified at the thought. Harry's eyebrows shot up, and Snape shot him a look that clearly said "Don't ask."  
  
Dumbledore did not seem to notice. "Really, I think it could use some homey touches. How about a couch? Maybe some nice tapestries. What do you think, Severus? Would you like a lemon drop?"  
  
Snape had closed his eyes and looked to be biting back a reply. "Yes, thank you."  
  
"Hm... shame, really... draperies would do a world of good down there..."  
  
"Um... Professor?" Harry spoke up timidly.  
  
"What? Oh, right! Harry, I'm sorry. Would you like a lemon drop?" he offered him another one.  
  
Harry blinked.  
  
Snape murmured, "Take one, Potter. He'll keep offering them to you if you don't."  
  
Harry glanced at his teacher, who looked sourly back at him and thanked Dumbledore for the candy.  
  
The Headmaster sat back in his chair at last. "Well! Now that that's out of the way, young Harry here has a little problem. You see, Severus... well, why don't I let Harry tell you?"  
  
Harry was given a look by his Headmaster, and turned to Snape.  
  
"Professor Snape, sir... You see..." He licked his lips.  
  
"Get on with it, Potter, I haven't all day," he murmured mildly, his lips twisting in the beginnings of a sneer.  
  
"Yes, well, I have a problem." Snape arched an eyebrow again. Harry hurried on, "I'm not really a Gryffindor."  
  
Snape snorted. "You're what? You've been a Gryffindor for two years, Potter; I'm reminded of the fact every time you're in my class. What in Merlin's name are you talking about?"  
  
"I mean I shouldn't be in Gryffindor!" he replied, embarrassed. "When I put on the Sorting Hat in my first year, it wanted to put me in... in another house."  
  
Snape's eyebrows shot up, and he put two and two together. "Slytherin?" he asked incredulously. He looked to Dumbledore for confirmation, who nodded, as did Harry.  
  
Harry continued, "I'd already met Draco Malfoy on the Hogwarts Express and in Madame Malkin's. I didn't know anything about the houses, all I knew is that I didn't want to have to put up with him. So, I asked the Hat to put me in Gryffindor."  
  
The Potions Master looked unconvinced. "You, a mere first year, influenced the Sorting Hat?" He snorted again, "Absurd."  
  
Dumbledore intervened. "I believe it is possible, Severus. I have told you my suspicions concerning Voldemort and Harry, and I believe that perhaps he... nudged the Hat in the direction he wanted." Harry briefly wondered what else Dumbledore had told Snape, of all people, about him that he himself didn't know.  
  
This time Severus Snape didn't object. He was considering the possibility, Harry could tell; weighing in his mind if it was feasible. Finally he spoke. "This is certainly... intriguing, Albus... But I have yet to see why you called me here, and what you expect me to do. I can only see one way to proceed."  
  
The Headmaster leaned forward. "And what would that be, Severus?" For some reason, Harry thought he looked rather amused. Snape apparently saw this too, and frowned.  
  
"Next year at the sorting, Mr. Potter will be called to the front again and resorted. It's never been done, but surely it's the only solution?"  
  
Harry was surprised. He had been sure that Professor Snape would sneer at him and tell him that it was too bad that he was stuck in Gryffindor. Slytherin didn't want him, and that would be that. He looked at the other man curiously, and he was met with a level gaze betraying no emotion. Not even dislike, he noted with some satisfaction. Maybe he won't hate me as much if I'm in Slytherin?  
  
Dumbledore, meanwhile, seemed to be considering the suggestion very carefully. "I'll have to ask Minerva about it, but I believe that it's a reasonable solution." Snape's expression clearly said, 'What other kind of solution would I give?' "I will be back soon, Severus, Harry. Do try to enjoy yourselves while I'm gone." He waved his wand and a chessboard appeared between the two on a small table, a bowl of lemon drops to one side. He stepped into the still-green flames and was gone.  
  
Fawkes ruffled his feathers and fluttered over to the Potions Master, settling on his lap. Harry gaped when Snape began stroking its feathers gently, murmuring to it. His astonishment was apparent, and Professor Snape arched an eyebrow. "Am I not allowed to be kind, too, once in a while, Potter?" he asked softly. "I'm not a greasy old git despite what you, Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger, and probably everyone but my own House believes." He went back to stroking the phoenix.  
  
Harry realized something about Snape then. He was human. Moreover, he was a lonely, bitter human. This was how Harry saw it: The young witches and wizards that attended Hogwarts were not the quietest, most studious teenagers in the world. If they didn't already have an interest in a course or enjoy the teacher, it was very difficult for them to actively pay attention. Potions were tedious to brew. Incredibly precise work and an exact following of instructions were required, and it was held in a dungeon. Not the most comfortable surroundings, one had to admit - it was unpleasantly cold and damp, and not well lit. Without any reasons to look forward to Potions class, students grumbled and tried to find more interesting things to do during class. Snape was a man who knew his craft absolutely. He would not beg on his knees for the students to learn a thing or two - he deserved respect, and he knew it. He didn't go out of his way to try to gain the students' affections, either - he was Head of Slytherin, who would like him? Besides, he wasn't one who seemed to crave emotional attachments, either. The only ones who already had any connection to him at all were the students in his own House. He didn't favor them; they favored him. It was so simple that he couldn't understand why he hadn't seen it before. He flushed, angry with himself for being so unfair to Snape. Now that was something Ron would about die at, he thought wryly. Them being unfair to Snape!  
  
Suddenly, Harry decided that, from then on, he would start over with Snape. Besides, he thought, next year he might well be my Head of House, eh?  
  
"Professor Snape..." he began.  
  
Snape looked up at him. "Yes, Mr. Potter? What is it?" His voice was flat, and his lips had automatically begun to twist into a sneer.  
  
"Would you like to play a game of chess?" The other's eyebrows shot up. He had not been expecting that. "I mean... Professor Dumbledore obviously put the board there for a reason." He motioned vaguely to the wizard's chess that had been set up for them.  
  
Snape looked, for once, stunned, but he recovered quickly. "You'd ask to play a game with me, Potter? Clearly you're not thinking straight. I'm your evil, unfair, greasy Potions Master." He sneered, but Harry wasn't sure if it was at Harry or at himself.  
  
"I know who you are," Harry said firmly. "But only part of you. In the class, where you have to be cruel and intimidating in order to get us to pay attention. I think there's more to you. Besides," he added lamely, "if you're going to be my Head of House, sir, it'd suck if I had to hate you."  
  
For the first time in his life, Harry heard Snape laugh. A true, soft laugh, not a mocking one. A laugh! He had made the Potions Master laugh! He smiled, and scooted his chair closer to the table.  
  
"You do realize that I'm going to kill you, Potter," Snape murmured.  
  
It took Harry a moment to realize that he was talking about the chess game, and grinned. "You wish!" he challenged, and took a lemon drop.  
When Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace half an hour later, he was greeted by the site of his employee quietly ordering his queen to D-7. "Check mate." He sat back smugly, folding his arms across his chest.  
  
Harry just stared. Severus Snape had just stunningly beaten him at wizard's chess, even after all of Ron's tutoring. He raised his head. "Wow, sir!" he breathed.  
  
"'Wow' indeed, Harry," Dumbledore said seriously, "to both Severus' amazing chess skills and to you. You will be the first student ever to attend Hogwarts... and be re-sorted."  
  
He nodded. "Thank you, Professor." He slid out of his seat. It was good to touch the floor again. He turned to Professor Snape. "Thank you for the chess game, Professor..." he hesitated. "I'm glad I got to see a nicer side of you." Snape glowered, but a tiny smile played on his lips. Harry grinned. "Don't worry, I won't tell. You have a reputation to maintain!" Happily, he popped another lemon drop into his mouth. "I have to get back to my dorm and finish packing. Thank you, Professors!" he called over his shoulder as he stepped onto the stairway and was carried out of sight.  
  
He silently reviewed the evening in his mind as he made his way back to the Gryffindor common room. What had he discovered? Dumbledore seemed to genuinely like Harry for who he was, but the fact that he was The Boy Who Lived didn't hurt; nor did the fact that he was a Gryffindor. Supposedly. Also, Severus Snape wasn't a mean, greasy, unfeeling git. With some shock, Harry realized that he no longer hated the man. It'd be nice to be his friend, Harry thought. I want to make him laugh again. It was such a change. He smiled at the memory, and switched his train of thought. What else had he-? Oh, yes. Voldemort. He had learned so much about himself, and his connection to Lord Voldemort. That explained his Parseltongue, the pains in his scar, his powers...  
  
Harry was still lost in thought when he ran into someone.  
  
"Ow!"  
  
He looked down to see a wincing Draco Malfoy glaring up at him.  
  
"Watch where you're going, Potter!" growled Malfoy.  
  
Harry did some quick thinking. Next year he might have to deal with Malfoy a lot more often, if his suspicions about the Sorting Hat were confirmed. Perhaps he had better start a new relationship now? He reached down and grasped the other's hand, pulling him to his feet. "I'm sorry, Malfoy. I wasn't paying attention. Are you ok?" He hesitated, "Er - Malfoy?"  
  
The blonde was too stunned to prepare a comeback. "What-?"  
  
"What are the Slytherins really like?"  
  
Draco's surprise was replaced by the usual sneer, now. "We're sneaky and cruel, Potter, according to you brave, kind-hearted Gryffindor do-gooders. I don't know why you bother asking."  
  
"They're not," Harry said quietly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Gryffindors aren't all do-gooders. They're also snobby and unfair to other Houses, especially Slytherin; they break rules more often than probably any other House..." He took a breath, "And I bet Slytherin isn't as bad as everyone seems to think it is. You've got ambition and determination. Some of you are very clever. You're loyal to each other, just like Gryffindors are supposed to be, too." Malfoy was silent. "I bet a Slytherin and a Gryffindor could even be friends."  
  
"Not likely, Potter," Malfoy muttered.  
  
Harry smiled. "You're right, of course. Two Slytherins, then? Well, I'm off. I've got to finish packing, you know. I'll see you next year, shall I?" He waved to his so-called nemesis, who was left to make sense of the conversation, and headed for the Fat Lady. 


	3. Secret Revealed

Is this even necessary? I don't own these characters, JK Rowling does, the genius. ::in awe:: She's marvelous, isn't she? I can't wait for the fifth book. Anyway. enjoy!  
  
Harry folded his last shirt, placed it inside his trunk, and sighed. He'd avoided Ron and Hermione so far with the excuse that he had to finish packing. Now he'd have to talk to them. He sighed again and got to his feet. Pausing to wipe his glasses on his shirt, he left the boys' dorm and went down to the common room.  
  
Glancing around, he noted Fred and George whispering in a corner with Lee Jordan. Undoubtedly they were planning some prank. He rolled his eyes. Ginny was watching Ron and Hermione play a game of wizard's chess. Ignoring Colin Creevy, who waved furiously at him, he walked over to join his best friends.  
  
Ginny blushed furiously at her rescuer; she still hadn't said a word to him that wasn't immediately followed by a flush to her cheeks and a nervous twirling of a lock of hair around her finger. He smiled at her and the red deepened. With her red hair, she looked quite like a freckled tomato. Keeping the thought to himself, he chuckled and turned to watch the game.  
  
Ron had beaten Hermione terrifically, and Hermione looked rather agitated. The Weasley had just proclaimed check mate, and Hermione was frantically checking all her possibilities. Harry grinned; she scowled back.  
  
Finally, she had to admit to the redhead's victory. "I don't know where I went wrong, though," she frowned, "because I read a book on a supposedly unbeatable strategy."  
  
"Robert Rookman's Mating for Life?" Ron grinned as Hermione blushed. Harry snickered at the title. "I've read the book cover to cover more'n ten times, 'Moine. It's only unbeatable if you don't know it already." He turned to Harry. "Where've you been all this time, Harry? We were looking for you."  
  
Harry grimaced inwardly. This was the part he'd been dreading. On the outside he said lightly, "Yeah, I had to talk to Dumbledore about something." He paused. "Could I talk to you guys? Privately," he added, with an apologetic look at Ginny. She flushed.  
  
Ron and Hermione looked at each other before answering, "Sure thing."  
  
Silently, Harry led them to a quiet corner of the common room. It was a general rule in the Gryffindor tower that when someone was in this corner, they didn't want to be disturbed. He settled himself in an armchair; Hermione took the one across from him, and Ron sat on its armrest.  
  
"So... what's up?" Ron broke the silence. He hated silence. "Are you doing anything special over the summer? Er- probably not, all things considered. Heh... um..."  
  
Hermione gave the red head a look and he stopped babbling. "What's wrong, Harry?" she asked gently.  
  
He sighed. This would be hard. "Where should I start? Hm..." Harry began. "When Dumbledore talked to me after the... incident... I mentioned something to him. Tom Riddle, who was actually Voldemort when he was sixteen, said that we were a lot alike. I told Dumbledore, and he said he had a theory. He thinks I'm connected. To Voldemort, I mean." He continued quickly, ignoring the shock on his friends' faces. "When he attacked me, when I was a baby, Professor Dumbledore thinks that maybe he unintentionally transferred some of his powers to me. That's why I can speak Parseltongue. That's why my scar hurts. That's why..." he swallowed. "That's why the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin." He closed his eyes.  
  
"IT WANTED TO - " Hermione quickly clapped a hand over Ron's mouth. The rest of the Gryffindor common room slowly went back to what it was doing. Ron shoved Hermione's hand aside. "It wanted to put you in Slytherin?!" he hissed disbelievingly.  
  
"No, Ron, he made the whole thing up to freak you out," said Hermione sarcastically. "Honestly!" She turned to Harry. "Harry, that's really weird. I mean, then -" she bit her lip.  
  
"How, then did I end up in Gryffindor?" She nodded. "I asked it to put me here," Harry explained. "I'd never heard anything about the Houses. All I knew was that I'd met Draco Malfoy and didn't want to be near him. It was a silly thing, but I was so adamant that the Sorting Hat put me in Gryffindor instead."  
  
"Good thing, too," replied Ron. "Those Slytherins -" he sneered. You can't trust 'em Harry. They're bad ones."  
  
He felt his hands clench into fists. "Ron," he said through gritted teeth, "NO House is good or bad. Gryffindor isn't perfect either, you know." He frowned at Ron, who gaped at him. "What've you got against Slytherins, anyway? I mean, the House in general. I'd have thought you of all people would be last to judge a person by a name, Ron Weasley."  
  
Ron stared at him. "Harry, you're - you're defending the Slytherins? Of all Houses? They lie, they're mean, greasy old Snape treats them better than us just because they're so cruel, they -"  
  
Harry cut him off, "Professor Snape isn't evil, Ron. He is a Hogwarts teacher, and Dumbledore trusts him."  
  
Ron stood up, staring at Harry like he'd grown another head. "What's up with you, Harry? Defending Slytherins and - and Snape?" he gasped out, "I think you're bonkers. Just... bonkers." He sat down again, shaking his head, but Harry was angry.  
  
"Just because I'm not prejudiced, I'm bonkers? Do you think I'm bonkers for thinking Muggles can be good people, too? Or that money doesn't matter when I choose my friends?" Ron flushed.  
  
"Harry, look, I'm sorry, but... Well, what changed?" he was sincerely at a loss, and Harry felt some of his anger melt away.  
  
Hermione took the opportunity to speak up. "Harry, I don't mean to be insensitive, but... why're you telling us this?" She floundered for her words. "I mean, it's surprising, I know, but... haven't you known that for a long time? Why bring it up now, Harry?"  
  
He pursed his lips. Should he tell them? He had intended to, but after Ron's reactions so far... Oh well. If they wouldn't have him as friends just because he was probably a Slytherin, they did he really want them as friends? His stomach felt sick, but he answered.  
  
"This might be my last night as a Gryffindor." He waited.  
  
The two gasped. "What... what do you mean, Harry?" Hermione's voice shook. "You've not been expelled, have you?"  
  
"No, I'm not leaving." She sighed in relief.  
  
"Well, then," Ron had found his voice, "what are you talking about?"  
  
"I asked to be in Gryffindor for a silly reason. Malfoy's not that bad, in some ways." Seeing the hurt on Hermione's face and the outrage on Ron's, he explained, "It's not okay for him to call you or anyone else a Mudblood, Hermione, and he's rotten to you, Ron. But think about it. Is Lucius Malfoy really one to teach his son anything else? I think he just hasn't learned to think for himself, or, when he does, it gets him in trouble at home. It's just a guess, though. Look, I've already spoken to Dumbledore -"  
  
"And he said you're bonkers, right?" interrupted Ron.  
  
"- and Professor Snape," he finished dryly.  
  
Ron could think of nothing to say to this, and let this news sit in.  
  
"But... what do you mean to do? Certainly Dumbledore can't just remove a student because they don't like the House they're in," she said stiffly.  
  
"Hermione, you've got it wrong. I certainly don't dislike Gryffindor, I just- I feel like the Sorting Hat knows what it's doing, and it has a reason for putting students where it does."  
  
"Right, and it put you in Gryffindor."  
  
"So, if I'm supposed to by in Gryffindor, like you and Ron and Dumbledore think, then we've not got a problem, see? Look, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape have arranged it so that I'll be re-sorted next year with the first years."  
  
Ron grimaced, "How'd you convince Snape?" He looked like he wanted to comment on the re-sorting, but bit his tongue and looked away.  
  
Harry arched an eyebrow. "Actually, he suggested it in the first place," he told him lightly. Ron's jaw dropped. Hermione fiddled with a fold in her robes, not meeting Harry's eyes.  
  
"Hermione, Ron," he said as gently as he could, "I've been in Gryffindor for two years. I have friends here. Maybe it's changed its mind, hm?" He hoped he sounded reassuring. "I just... I won't feel right until I'm sure that this is where I'm supposed to be. I hope we'll still be friends no matter where I end up."  
  
Harry stood and crossed the room to climb the stairs to the dorm. He undressed slowly, then put on his pajamas and slid between the cool sheets. He sighed and closed his eyes. This might be the last time he slept in this room. A few minutes later, Harry heard someone come up and get into the bed next to his. Silence.  
  
"G'night Ron," Harry whispered. He waited a few minutes.  
  
"'Night, Harry," came the quiet response, finally. Harry smiled. 


	4. An Eventful Summer

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter's so short... More coming soon! And, hopefully, some more original stuff... It's tedious to re-write (and probably to read) things that have already happened, you know? ::sigh::  
The trip on the Hogwarts Express was basically the same as it was in his first year. Friends reminisced about the past year, looking forward to the summer (except in Harry's case) and the nest year. Ginny, Fred, and George did the most talking about the year to come. Hermione and Ron were rather quiet, and Harry didn't say anything at all.  
  
Ron practically turned green when he caught Harry waving hesitantly to Draco Malfoy, of all people. Malfoy stared at him and turned away with a jerky nod. Harry grinned. Hey, it was a start.  
  
Uncle Vernon met him at the station, glaring suspiciously at Mrs. Weasley when she hugged Harry. He edged away, and hurried Harry to the car. It was going to be a long summer.  
Everything was relatively normal at #4 Privet Drive that summer - at first. Vernon and Petunia spoke sharply to him, and Dudley ran at the sight of him. Harry was content to let things stay this way, and spent his time doing homework (by flashlight in the dead of night), reading, or thinking about the next school year. When he was forced to eat in the kitchen with the rest of his 'family,' he watched the TV with Dudley. Nothing much was on - stock market changes, cartoons, an escaped convict by the name of Sirius Black, and, Aunt Petunia's favorite, the gossip channel. Harry sighed.  
  
About halfway through the summer, he received his Hogwarts supply list. His stomach sank, however, when he found what was attached: a permission slip for trips to Hogsmeade on weekends. Harry had heard a little about the place. It was the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in all of England, and was a mini paradise for Hogwarts' staff and students, with interesting stores and an owl post office! He groaned. He would NEVER be able to get Uncle Vernon to sign this!  
  
Then, the worst news came. Vernon's huge sister, Marge, was coming to visit. Marge hated Harry, and her favorite past time was being nasty to him. Neither he nor his cousin Dudley had any fondness for the woman, but, as Dudley was paid 20 dollars as compensation, he accepted her bone- crunching hugs, sloppy kisses, and, of course, her gifts. Harry tried to stay out of her way as much as possible, and Vernon and Petunia encouraged this. Especially when she brought her dogs. Marge's dogs hated him. Once, when the Dursleys had taken him to Marge's house for a visit, the vicious things had chased him up a tree, and "Aunt Marge" as he was forced to call her, wouldn't call them off until past nightfall.  
  
However, he did find one positive thing about her visit. Uncle Vernon had made up stories to explain Harry's whereabouts the rest of the year. If Harry let anything slip, Vernon could beat him as much as he pleased, but his sister wouldn't forget it. So, if Harry stuck to the story and didn't pull any 'funny stuff,' Uncle Vernon would "sign the ruddy slip."  
  
So, when Marge arrived, Harry Potter did his best to avoid her and to act 'normal.' Unfortunately, she had other plans for him. Whenever she saw him, she immediately engaged him in 'conversation,' insulting him and baiting him, dying to find as many things to berate him about as possible. When asked where he went to school, he described, as instructed by his uncle, life at St. Brutus' Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. All went smoothly until her last night there, at the dinner table...  
  
"Petunia, your sister was a bad egg. Ran off with a wastrel and here," Aunt Marge gestured to Harry, "is the result in front of us." Seeing that she had struck a cord with Harry, she immediately followed this up with further derogatory comments concerning his parents.  
  
Harry shook with anger. The woman went on, throwing insults left and right, screaming at him whenever he dared to object. He tried to concentrate on the Quidditch Self-Service Broom kit that Hermione had sent him, but the shrill voice penetrated even this, his favorite subject. Finally, he lost control. Just as she was reaching the climax of her rant, she stopped. Her already blimp-like body had begun to swell. Her fingers grew to the size of sausages, and the buttons on her dress burst off. Slowly, like a giant balloon, she began to rise out of her seat with a yell.  
  
"MARGE!" Vernon and Petunia yelled at once, and Vernon lunged forward and tried to pull his sister back to earth by one of her puffed-up feet. He yelled as he, too, was lifted off the floor.  
  
In the confusion, Harry dashed to his cupboard; the door blasted to splinters before he reached it. Quickly, he heaved his trunk to the front door and ran up stairs. Yanking up the loose floorboard, he grabbed his schoolbooks, his birthday presents, and Hedwig's empty cage. Harry thudded down the stairs and to the front door. He pulled out his wand as Vernon came striding through the living room.  
  
"CHANGE HER BACK! PUT HER RIGHT, YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING-"  
  
He didn't have a chance to finish, as Harry cast a silencing spell on him.  
  
"She deserved it, Dursley, and you would too," he hissed coldly. "I'm leaving." So saying, he pulled his things out the door and slammed it behind him. 


	5. Summary of JK's PoA chapter 3: The Knigh...

Author's Note: Okay, after leaving the Dursleys', Harry is left on his own. If you have JK Rowling's book Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban on hand, READ CHAPTER 3. That is the chapter that is inserted here, since it's not quite Alternate Universe yet. BUT if you haven't got the book handy, here's a summary, ok? Again, this is looking a lot like [the revered] JK's books so far, I KNOW. However, it will soon take a drastic turn... I promise! Bear with me here... ::sweatdrops::  
  
Here is a summary of Chapter 3 of PoA, serving as my Chapter 5 (without permission from the lovely JK Rowling. This is her work. I'm broke, don't bother suing me.)  
  
The Knight Bus  
  
Harry panics after he leaves Privet Drive. He is stranded on the street corner when he decides to try to fly to London. Surely he's in enough trouble already it can't hurt? As he's looking for his Invisibility Cloak, though, he feels that something is watching him. Looking into a dark alley, he sees "the hulking outline of something very big, with wide, gleaming eyes." He stumbles backwards, flinging his arm out to catch himself and BANG! He rolls ouf of the way just in time to avoid being run over by a huge, purple bus. It's called the Knight Bus, and, he finds out, flinging out his wand-arm is the signal to hail it. The conductor tells him it will take him anywhere. Harry hurriedly gets himself onboard, giving his name as Neville Longbottom (the first name that comes to mind).  
  
He hears the latest news from the driver and conductor - the escaped convict, Sirius Black, is actually a wizard who escaped from Azkaban, the high-security wizard prison. Harry is told that Black was shut up for murdering thirteen people with one curse... in broad daylight, about twelve years ago.  
  
Eventually, Harry is put off in front of the Leaky Cauldron, where he is, to his dismay, met by none other than Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. Fudge treats him to tea and crumpets and is very concerned about him. He makes sure Harry is unharmed, then assures him that the situation at Privet Drive has been resolved. Harry is shocked to find that he is in no trouble, and that he will be allowed to stay in the Leaky Cauldron until the beginning of the school year. Fudge acts very nervous when Sirius Black's name is mentioned, and he forbids Harry to leave Diagon Alley. At the end of chapter three, Harry settles into his room at the Leaky Cauldron - Hedwig was waiting for him when he got there, she's very intelligent - and falls asleep, yawning that "It's been a very weird night, Hedwig."  
Again, I do not own ANY part of this chapter, it is purely a summary of JK Rowling's writing. If you haven't gotten that through your head and still want to sue me, it'd be simpler to e-mail me and request that I take it down, right? Anyway, that's where my Chapter 6 will begin. Thanks!  
  
Maris Slytherin 


	6. A Meeting in Diagon Alley

Author's Note: Ok, this is again a slight changing/ summarizing of JK's own chapter. It will change to my own story more in chapter 7, when they arrive at Hogwarts, ok? Slash hints will start in Chapter 8, I think... [later note: alright, so they didn't, so sue me...] Thanks for bearing with me! You can kind of consider chapters 1-6 as a prologue, ok? Just, a really long prologue... hehe... Also, I've noticed that Microsoft Word has an annoying tendency to change "..." into "." so if you see periods where there should be elipses (sp?), you know why. lol. [later note: I have gone back to change all of these. I hope I've found them all...]  
  
Hippy Flower = Voldie's Kid: Thank you for your enthusiastic response! It's nice to know that my stories are appreciated. ^_^ More soon, I promise.  
  
Mnemosyne: I like your name...! ^_^ Don't worry, Harry won't turn out evil, exactly. He'll always be fighting against Voldemort, I promise that. ^_^  
  
ManicGrace: Thank you! I rather liked this perspective, as I haven't seen it often. It's really hard to write it, though, 'cuz I always think of Dumbledore as being a kindly, wise grandfather-type.  
  
Diana Lucille Snape: I agree, I love Harry/Draco, too, and fatherly Snapes, too. ^_^ In this fic, there won't be any Harry/Draco, but they will develop a close relationship... I don't plan the story out before I write it, but I will make sure of that! Note: This was added before I changed the fic to a Harry/Draco pairing. Happy Diana? ::smiles::  
  
Kari: I like the twist, too. I wonder how it'll turn out...  
  
Bluebird161221: Thank you! I will continue this whenever I have a chance.  
  
Zebee: I've always been partial to Slytherin... I hope you enjoy what I come up with! ^_^  
  
TA: Chapter six has arrived! Ba da da dum... Hehe...  
  
Deity: Severus is cool, isn't he? So deliciously cruel, and yet so very, very good... (Interpret this as you will)  
  
Myrddin Ambrosius: I'm so glad you're hooked! I hope you continue to read the story as it develops!  
  
Tima: Thanks! Here's the next chapter! Enjoy.  
  
Catsncritters: Hehe... Harry/Snape is wonderful, huh? Check out my favorite fics, ok? I think you'll like them, if you haven't read them already.  
  
Izean: I'm so glad you like it! Here's the next chapter. ^_^  
  
Maris Slytherin  
It was a strange and wonderful experience for him, this new freedom. Harry could do what he wanted when he wanted, and there was nobody yelling at him or beating on his door. He loved it. He spent a good deal of his time watching and listening to the many fascinating people that congregated in Diagon Alley. Aside from doing his homework, he spent most of his remaining time buying his school supplies and browsing the shops.  
  
When he entered Flourish and Blotts, an odd sight met his eyes. A cage in the front window displayed a hundred copies of The Monster Book of Monsters. Glancing at his supply list, he grinned. This was the required book for Care of Magical Creatures. He was wondering why Hagrid had said the book - his birthday present to Harry - would come in handy. The manager was extremely relieved when Harry explained that he already had one; he had already been bitten five times that day. As the manager was getting Harry's copy of Unfogging the Future - required for first year Divination - the young wizard's eyes fell on another book: Death Omens: What To Do When You Know The Worst Is Coming. He was not so interested in death omens as he was the cover illustration. It was a strangely familiar silhouette: a bear- sized black dog with gleaming eyes. Harry glared at the book as if daring it to hurt him and turned away. He bought the rest of his books and left Flourish and Blotts without another glance at the ominous cover.  
  
He dumped his new school supplies on the bed in his room at the Leaky Cauldron and threw himself into the armchair by the fireplace. How stupid - death omens! He snorted to himself. As if he needed anyone to tell him that he was wanted dead. Voldemort was still out there, he knew, and he grimaced. The Dark Lord was biding his time, building up his strength. Harry wanted to be ready. He would be.  
  
As the summer neared its end, more and more Hogwarts students were showing up in Diagon Alley. Harry saw plenty of Gryffindors, including his friends Seamus and Dean, who were admiring the newest broom model in Quality Quidditch Supplies. The Firebolt was its name, and the plaque boasted that each of the twigs in its tail had been honed to aerodynamic perfection. Harry also passed Neville Longbottom, another Gryffindor, and the occasional Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. He found that he was slightly disappointed not to have run into Draco Malfoy. He was still determined to start anew with the boy.  
  
On the last day of the vacation, he was rather surprised that Ron and Hermione had not shown up. Maybe they're just avoiding me, he thought inwardly, and sighed. Later, though, as he was wondering where to have lunch, he spotted the two talking to each other outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. As he made his way over, he noticed that Ron was incredibly freckly, and Hermione's skin was darkly tanned. During the summer, she had written to Harry to tell him that she was spending the holiday in France. As a birthday present, she had sent him a Broomstick Servicing Kit, which he loved. She had also mentioned, Harry now remembered, that Ron's dad had won some sort of prize, and that the Weasleys had spent their vacation in Egypt. Ron, apparently still uncomfortable around Harry, had sent him something small for his birthday with a very short note. Maybe he felt bad about the way he'd treated Harry. He'd received a small top-like thing. 'Harry-' Ron had written, 'It's a Sneak-o-Scope. It whistles and spins when someone untrustworthy is nearby... Bet it'll drive you nuts if you end up in another House. - Ron' ['Slytherin' had been crossed out, 'another House' written in above it. Harry had sighed.]  
  
By this time, he had reached Ron and Hermione's table, and he stopped behind Ron's chair. Hermione looked up and smiled.  
  
"Hello, Harry. I was wondering when you'd show up. Ron said you're staying at the Leaky Cauldron."  
  
Ron looked up and flushed. "'lo, Harry," he said quietly.  
  
Harry sat down in an empty chair and looked at Ron curiously. "How'ed you know I was at the Leaky Cauldron, Ron?"  
  
"Dad," he replied simply.  
  
Ah, of course, thought Harry. Then he'll know all about the incident with Aunt Marge...  
  
As if reading his thoughts, Ron grinned for the first time in Harry's presence since the end of last year. "Did you really blow her up? I heard she was like a balloon, floating up on the ceiling.....!" he snickered.  
  
"It's not funny, Ron!" admonished Hermione. "Harry could have been expelled!"  
  
Harry replied, "I didn't mean to, Hermione," he smirked. "But she deserved it. Honestly, the woman's a monster."  
  
"I assume you haven't been expelled, then. How did you escape punishment?" she asked curiously.  
  
"Forget expelled, I thought I would be arrested. Your dad doesn't know why Fudge let me off, does he?" he asked, turning to Ron.  
  
"Probably 'cause it's you, isn't it? Famous Harry Potter and all that. I'd hate to see what the Ministry'd do to me if I blew up an aunt." Ron chuckled. "Mind you, they'd have to dig me up first, because Mum would've killed me."  
  
Harry wasn't listening. Famous Harry Potter and all that. Yes, anything for the Boy Who Lived. He hated the title. Those four words seemed to define him to the rest of the wizarding world (1), and they felt they didn't have to get to know him any more. He wondered again if that was how Dumbledore felt. It was probably his first impression, Harry decided, but he thought that, after two years, the Headmaster of Hogwarts knew him a little better. The hard thing was getting people to look past the celebrity and see him. Professor Snape had had a glimpse, he thought... That idiot Lockhart had just assumed he was vain, like himself, and Harry guessed that that was how a lot of people saw him. A self-centered celebrity; untouchable by the 'common people.' He shook his head in disgust.  
  
"Harry?" Ron's voice broke into his thoughts, and he raised his head.  
  
"Sorry, Ron. Spaced out for a minute. What were you saying?" he smiled apologetically.  
  
"He said that we're staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight, too," answered Hermione. "You can come to King's Cross with us tomorrow, then, if you'd like."  
  
Harry grinned. "Excellent!" He checked his watch, then. It was two o'clock. He stood up. "I've got to go. Last minute shopping, you know, and packing my new stuff. I'll see you at dinner, then?"  
  
Ron and Hermione nodded, and waved to him as he set off in the direction of the Apothecary. He had read in some book over the summer about a hard-to- find ingredient (banshee teeth), and recalled seeing a bottle of them in the store. Harry had decided to pick it up for Professor Snape as a thank- you for the chess game. He felt rather awkward, going from hating him to not. When he stopped to think about it, though, the only reason he'd ever disliked Severus Snape was because of the treatment he received. He hoped that he would be more tolerable this year. He had a feeling that it would be, even if it was only because he knew why Snape acted as he did. He smiled as he entered the Apothecary.  
  
As last time, it was full of facinating things. A dark, cool place, its shelves were crammed with bottles and jars of every shape and size, each filled with some substance more disgusting than the next.  
  
Hurrying over to the counter, he picked up the last bottle of banshee teeth and, making a face, paid for it. The wizard at the cash register leered at him, and he hastily turned away.  
  
However, passing once more by all the strange items, his curiosity got the better of him. Carefully skirting a glass tank containing what looked like floating orange blobs of toxic sludge (the sign read "Blubberpus Fish - A perfect pet!"), he made his way over to one of the walls. The sign above it called it the "Slightly Nasty Potions Ingredients" section. Harry wondered disgustedly what he would find in the "Really Nasty Potions Ingredients" section as he examined the bottles of dried newts, Essence of Hag, dragon scales, grindylow fingernails, various sized eyeballs, and other pleasantries.  
  
Feeling slightly sick at the aroma, he stepped back - and right into someone. Frantically, the two grabbed each others' arms to keep from falling and breaking anything, and, in a slightly wobbly tangle, managed to move into the center of the store, away from anything breakable. Regaining his balance, Harry let go of the other and turned around to apologize.  
  
"I'm so sorry, it's my fault, I -" he stopped. The person he had run into was none other than Draco Malfoy.  
  
"I'm sorry, Malfoy," he finished. He rushed on, hoping to avoid any snide remarks right off the bat. "What are you doing here? Buying your Potions ingredients?" He knew he was rambling, but was determined to be friendly. "I'm really sorry I ran into you. I've always been a bit of a klutz."  
  
Malfoy was staring at him in amazement. "You're sorry? You're sorry? Potter, are you feeling alright?" he asked, too astounded to sneer. "It's me, Malfoy. We hate each other, remember?"  
  
Harry, embarrassed, scratched his head. "Yeah... sorry about that, too. I've been rotten to you. I guess it's that Gryffindor/Slytherin rivalry thing. Look, I'm really sorry. You probably don't want to talk to me." He looked down at the floor.  
  
Malfoy was, for once, speechless. Then, his eyes narrowed. "What do you want, Potter? You've never been nice to me. I offered to be your friend once and you refused." His eyes widened momentarily. He hadn't meant to say that. "Anyway," he hurried on, trying to cover up, "you won't get anything out of me by sweet-talking me. Run back to your little Gryffindor friends." He spun on his heel, and Harry was shocked to hear bitterness in his voice.  
  
"Malfoy," he said quietly. "I'm serious. I... I had a talk with Professor Dumbledore last year. I realized that he only really liked me at first because I was the Boy Who Lived," the contempt for the name was obvious in his voice, "and because I was in Gryffindor. After a while, I started to wonder why Gryffindors and Slytherins hated each other. There's no reason for it." He sighed, "Unfortunately, Ron and Hermione can't see it that way. They're really upset with me, because-" he stopped. What was he going to do, tell Malfoy? No, he'd wait. The look on his face at Hogwarts would be too priceless. "Well, all I'm trying to say is, you're not so bad." He shrugged. That was a pointless conversation, he was thinking as he turned to leave. He had only taken a few steps, though, when a quiet voice stopped him.  
  
"Draco."  
  
He half-turned. "Huh?"  
  
Malfoy looked levelly back at him. "My name," he said quietly, "is Draco."  
  
Their eyes locked. After a moment, Harry smiled softly. "My name is Harry. Pleased to meet you, Draco."  
  
The other's lips twitched almost imperceptibly, and he inclined his head.  
  
With a nod, Harry turned and happily left the Apothecary, the banshee teeth in his pocket and a smile on his face.  
Okay, note to readers. I know I said that the sorting would be in chapter 7, but it'll probably have to wait until chapter 8. I have a feeling the next chapter will be too long to squeeze it in, although I might be able too... I don't wanna rush it, you know? So, here's this chapter, at any rate. Hope you liked it! I might add more later tonight or tomorrow, hopefully.  
I read a line very similar to this in another fic on Fanfiction.net. I can't remember which, now, but I really liked it. If you recognize it as your phrasing, tell me so I can credit you! -Maris 


	7. A Cat, a Conversation, and Confusion

Author's note: Hi all! Maris here. Sorry I don't update often... School, sleep, etc. Also, the computer is in my Mum and Dad's room ::scowls:: so I can't get to it after about 10:00 most nights. ::mutters to herself:: Aaaaaaannnnyway. ^_^ So, here's the next installment. I really should be working on that math project, though... ::sneaks onto the computer and types frantically::  
  
By the way, part of the scene at the dinner table (six lines, actually) are directly from the book. I don't claim to be the mastermind behind these words, but, as you've all probably read them before, I figured you would enjoy them again... they're funny! ^_^  
Harry laid his bags on the bed in his room and stepped into the bathroom. He turned on the faucet and wet his toothbrush, squeezed toothpaste onto it, and proceeded to scour his teeth. After washing his face with a warm washcloth, he went back into the main part of the room - and stopped. He was supposed to meet the Weasleys and Hermione downstairs for dinner - he checked his watch - five minutes ago! Hurriedly, he pulled his shirt off (he thought it probably still smelled like the Apothecary) and pulled on a black top. After a moment's consideration, he switched jeans, too, to a darker, tighter pair. He stuck his tongue out at the mirror and rushed out of the room.  
  
When he reached the parlor of the Leaky Cauldron, Tom the innkeeper had put together three tables to accommodate their group. The Weasleys and Hermione had apparently just ordered their drinks, because Tom asked Harry what he'd like as he passed the bar.  
  
He thought a moment. "D'you have butterbeer?"  
  
"Sure do, Harry, but it's not as good as what they stock in Hogsmeade, from what I hear," he grinned ruefully.  
  
Harry smiled, "I'm sure it's fine. I'd like that, please."  
  
"Coming right up."  
  
He approached the table and saw that a chair had been left empty for him at the end of the table, next to Hermione. She smiled to him as he sat down, and Harry cheerfully at the rest of the table. Percy nodded solemnly to him, and he had to bite back a groan at the Head Boy badge pinned to his robes.  
  
"How nice to see you, Harry," he spoke formally. Ron snorted. "I hope your summer was enjoya-"  
  
"Splendid to see you, Harry, old boy! Simply smashing..." Fred cut Percy off as he waved jovially to Harry.  
  
"Spiffing! I do hope you're well," added George pompously. Harry caught Ron's eye and the two grinned.  
  
"That will be enough," said Mrs. Weasley firmly. She turned to Harry and said warmly, "Harry, dear, we're glad you could make it. I hope your summer was - er... pleasant?" she tried to smile, but he knew she was remembering the way Uncle Vernon had met him at King's Cross last year, and the Aunt Marge incident. He grimaced.  
  
Conversation was halted, then, with the appearance of drinks and, a few moments later, the family style meal that Molly and Arthur Weasley had ordered for them. They eagerly ate their way through five delicious courses, and Harry quite enjoyed the butterbeer. Tom beamed. As he dug into a large chocolate pudding, Fred asked Mr. Weasley how they would get to the station the next morning.  
  
"The Ministry's providing a couple of cars," said Mr. Weasley.  
  
Everyone looked up at him.  
  
"Why?" said Percy curiously.  
  
"It's because of you, Perce," said George seriously. "And there'll be little flags on the hoods, with HB on them - "  
  
" - for Humongous Bighead," said Fred.  
  
Everyone except Percy and Mrs. Weasley snorted into their pudding.  
  
When he had regained his composure, Ron's dad answered, "Well, Percy, as we haven't got a car any more, and as I work there, they're doing me a favor..."  
  
It sounded reasonable enough, but it just didn't fit with Harry's picture of the Ministry. Hadn't Arthur Weasley gotten in big trouble about that car? Why would the Ministry be sympathetic now? Something was up. He reviewed in his head as he ate his own bowl of chocolate pudding. Fudge had shown up, apparently looking for Harry - for reasons unknown, he might add - and then not administered punishment for a serious offense of the underage wizarding restrictions law. Then, he had let Harry stay in the Leaky Cauldron instead of sending him home --or to Azkaban - and had, overall, seemed very jittery and falsely cheerful. And now the Ministry was giving Mr. Weasley the use of several cars... just to drive some students to a train station? Very weird, he decided. He also decided that he liked chocolate pudding very much.  
  
After dinner, Harry headed up to Hermione and Ginny's room - 'Moine had told him that she had something to show him. Curious, he knocked on the door.  
  
"Coming!" came the muffled reply, and Ginny opened the door. When she saw who it was, she reddened and opened the door. "Hi Harry," she murmured shyly.  
  
"Hello, Ginny. Is Hermione here?"  
  
"Yes, yes, I'm here. Come in, Harry, you've got to see him!" Hermione's voice came from the other end of the room.  
  
Him? Harry stepped into the room and looked around. It was impeccably clean, and the girls' trunks were already packed and neatly pushed against one wall, out of the way. Hermione was seated in one of the large armchairs stroking what appeared to be a very large orange ball of fluff. He raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Isn't he gorgeous? I got him today after you left, Harry, when Ron got some rat tonic for Scabbers." She held up the creature for him to see, and he made it out to be a huge cat. It was slightly bowlegged, and its face looked rather squashed, as if it had run into a wall. Hermione was glowing, and hugged the thing tightly. "His name's Crookshanks."  
  
"That's really great, Hermione." He knew that she'd been wanting a pet, but had thought that she would choose an owl. It was, after all, more practical. She could use it to send letters to people in the upcoming school year, and they were probably more intelligent than cats.  
  
He was dimly aware that she was telling Ginny all about how she'd gotten Crookshanks, and the two girls were stroking the thing. However, Harry's thoughts were not in the room. His thought about 'the upcoming school year' had nagged him. For the first time, he really wondered what it would be like if he was sorted into another House. He couldn't imagine being put into Hufflepuff, and he wasn't especially clever, so Ravenclaw was probably out of the picture, too. He was fairly sure he'd end up either in Gryffindor again or - he drew a breath - Slytherin. What had he gotten himself into? For the first time, too, he was doubting his sanity. Perhaps it was foolish to be re-sorted. He'd never had a problem in Gryffindor, had he? And all his friends were there, and McGonnagal was a fine House Head... but he had to know. He sighed again, knowing that, deep inside himself, nothing could change his resolve.  
  
"Hermione?" he interrupted hesitantly. She looked up at him, pausing in mid- sentence. "I'm tired. I think I'm going to go to bed early. Long day tomorrow, you know." He yawned, just to add effect.  
  
He nodded to Ginny and made his way out into the hall. As he was about to turn to go back to his room, he felt a hand on his elbow. It was Hermione. She stepped outside and closed the door behind her. She gave him a long look before speaking.  
  
"Harry," she said gently, "are you ok?" She looked uncomfortable, but like she was trying to hide it. "You don't have to go through with it tomorrow. You can stay, just like it always has been. You'll probably just be put back there anyway, but it'll cause a stir, you know it will. Harry, please. What's the point in making a spectacle for no reason?" she pleaded with him.  
  
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I have to know. I've told you before. Don't worry, I'm sure everything'll be fine. Just a little... confirmation, if you will, of where I'm supposed to be. Just to ease my mind, ok?" He hoped he sounded sure of himself, and sure that he would be put into Gryffindor. Hermione didn't need to worry about it any more tonight. "Go to bed, ok? The train ride will be fun, and then we'll be at school again! Relax." He stepped back. "Good night," and he turned and walked away.  
  
He was so preoccupied that he didn't notice for thirty seconds that he was headed in the wrong direction. Looking around, he realized that he was at the opposite end of the building. Smacking himself lightly on the head, he spun around to head back the way he'd come. However, as he was passing Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's room, he slowed. It sounded like they were arguing. Feeling a little guilty, he put his ear to the door, and was surprised to hear his own name.  
  
".makes no sense not to tell him. Harry's got a right to know. I've tried to tell Fudge, but he insists on treating Harry like a child. He's thirteen years old and-"  
  
Mrs. Weasley cut her husband off. "Arthur, the truth would terrify him! Do you really want to send Harry back to school with that hanging over him? For heaven's sake, he's happy not knowing!"  
  
"I don't want to make him miserable, I want to put him on his guard! You know what Harry and Ron are like, wandering off by themselves - they've ended up in the Forbidden Forest twice! But Harry mustn't do that this year! When I think what could have happened to him that night he ran away from home! If the Knight Bus hadn't picked him up, I'm prepared to bet he would have been dead before the Ministry found him..."  
  
Harry was startled. Dead? Was Voldemort planning some new attack? That would explain why Fudge had been so nervous, and so relieved to find him unharmed. Now that he thought about it, it explained the Leaky Cauldron and the Ministry cars, too. They were for him, The Boy Who Lived. Great, he thought disgustedly, a bodyguard for the celebrity. However, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were still talking, and he put his ear back to the door.  
  
"...sure that Black's after Harry-" Mrs. Weasley was saying.  
  
"Molly, how many times do I have to tell you? They didn't report it in the press because Fudge wanted it kept quiet, but Fudge went out to Azkaban the night Black escaped. The guards told Fudge that Black's been talking in his sleep for a while now. Always the same words: 'He's at Hogwarts... he's at Hogwarts.' Black is deranged, Molly, and he wants Harry dead..."  
  
His mind whirling, Harry stepped away from the door. He'd heard enough, and he hurried back to his room. Along the way, he met Fred and George crouched in the shadows. Snickering, they showed him Percy's badge, which they had swiped from his bedside table. It now read "Bighead Boy." Harry forced a laugh, and continued to his bedroom. Closing the door behind him, he numbly undressed and got into bed. Placing his glasses on the bedside table, his mind was, once again, full of questions.  
  
It wasn't Voldemort, this time, but Sirius Black. He was the escaped convict he'd heard about first on the Muggle news and then on the Knight Bus. Apparently a big supporter of the Dark Lord, he'd heard. But why would he want Harry dead? How would he know he was at Hogwarts? What would he do? How had he managed to break out of Azkaban? And, Harry asked himself as he drifted off to sleep, what was he going to do about it?  
Sorry it's so short! More soon, I promise!!! 


	8. Vulnerability in the Dark

Author's note: Sorry this took so long! If you watch the weather channel, you'll have heard about the ice storm in the south-eastern United States, ne? Well, guess who lives there... ::ignores all the neon arrows pointing to her:: You're right! Me. ::sweatdrops:: So, sorry it's been so long! I JUST got cable back (aka the internet), and I didn't have power for four and a half days.  
  
So... tell me what you think! Sorry if Draco is too OOC. I'll try to do my best to fix it... ::cringes:: Sorry!  
  
ATTENTION: This is now a Harry/Draco fanfic!!! Sorry to all those Harry/Severus fanfic lovers out there! I love them too, but my best friend (Kyuu) has gotten me hooked on Harry/Draco, so that's what this has turned out to be. Sorry, again! Please don't hate me... I'll post a Harry/Severus sometime! Anyway... enjoy (hopefully)!  
The next morning, Harry awoke to Tom's gentle knock on the door. He stretched and sat up.  
  
"Come in, Tom," he called sleepily, reaching for his glasses. The innkeeper pushed the door open, smiling brightly and carrying a cup of tea for Harry. "Thanks," he told him as he sipped the tea. "It's been great here, Tom. I'll see you around, shall I?"  
  
"Sure thing, Harry. Have a safe - er - nice school year, Harry!" Tom called over his shoulder as he left. He closed the door behind him.  
  
Nice of him to remind me of it first thing in the morning, Harry sighed to himself. He yawned again and, pushing the covers off, swung his legs out of bed and padded into the bathroom. He had just brushed his teeth and just finished getting dressed when there was a knock at the door.  
  
"Come on, Harry. Breakfast," Ron sounded irritated.  
  
"Hang on. Help me get Hedwig in her cage, will you?"  
  
Reluctantly, his best friend (Harry wondered if he could still call him that) pushed the door open. Harry was stroking the owl's feathers, murmuring softly to her. She had enjoyed her freedom for the past days, and was refusing to re-enter the cage.  
  
"Open the cage door, would you?" he asked quietly, not taking his eyes of the animal. Ron complied and, when Harry had deposited Hedwig in the cage, the two boys headed down the the parlor. Hedwig hooted mournfully after them.  
  
As they ate, Harry thought about what he'd heard last night. He knew it hadn't been a dream, but still couldn't really understand why everyone was so upset. I mean, he reasoned, Voldemort is wary of Dumbledore, Sirius Black certainly should be. So why all the fuss? No more danger than usual, he thought glumly. He wondered if he should tell Ron. No, he decided. He was probably already uncomfortable enough around Harry, defending Slytherins and Snape and all. He would probably think Harry would stand up and defend Sirius Black and Voldemort's humanity. Harry grimaced. Better not tell Hermione, then, either.  
  
After breakfast, the Weasleys, Hermione, and Harry hauled their school things down the stairs and piled their trunks by the door. Hedwig and Hermes - Percy's screech owl - eyed the wicker basket containing Crookshanks uneasily. Ron protectively crossed his arms over his breast pocket where a rather unhappy Scabbers was currently residing.  
  
Two hours later, he emerged on the other side of the barrier at Platform 9¾, Arthur Weasley at his elbow. Harry had been escorted everywhere since leaving the Leaky Cauldron, and it was starting to irritate him. Finally, with the Hogwarts Express set to leave in five minutes, Harry pulled Ron's dad to one side.  
  
"Mr. Weasley, can I talk to you for a sec?" he asked, annoyed.  
  
Mr. Weasley flushed, but nodded.  
  
"You don't have to escort me everywhere. I appreciate your concern, but... honestly. Is Sirius Black going to jump me in front of all these people? Even if he did kill thirteen people," Harry continued, ignoring the look of shock on Mr. Weasley's face, "he's got to be at least a little weak after so long in Azkaban, right?"  
  
"Harry... you... you know? But how? I'm sure I didn't let anything slip..." The Ministry wizard looked at him worriedly. "Are you okay, Harry? I mean, is there anything I can do? I know it must scare you..." preoccupied as he was, Harry wondered if perhaps Mr. Weasley was not more frightened than he.  
  
"Thanks, Mr. Weasley, but I'm really not that scared." He continued at the look of doubt that crossed the other's face. "I mean, Voldemort tried to kill me three times, and Sirius Black can't be any worse."  
  
Mr. Weasley flinched at the Dark Lord's name, but nodded dubiously. "I guess you have a point. But, Harry, Serious Black is still dangerous. Don't just brush him off. I want you to promise me something." A whistle blew, and doors along the Hogwarts Express began to close. "Harry, don't go looking for Black. I don't know how you found out or how long you've known, but please... I don't want you planning anything," he whispered urgently.  
  
"Arthur! The train's about to leave!" Molly Weasley's voice came shrilly.  
  
"Harry?" he looked anxiously at the boy in front of him.  
  
"Look, I've really got to go. I promise, ok? You don't have to worry." He paused, then added guiltily, "And... I found out from you. You and Mrs. Weasley were arguing last night, and I heard. But it's okay, really!" he finished hastily, seeing Ron's dad's face pale considerably. "I'll see you at the end of the year, ok? Bye!"  
  
Harry turned and ran to the train which had just begun to move. Ron grabbed his hand and pulled him aboard. Panting, Harry turned and waved to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"I promise to be safe," he called, and Ron gave him an odd look. "Your dad's nervous," Harry explained as Ron led him to the car where George, Fred, Lee Jordan, Ginny, and Hermione were already seated. "I mean, there's been an attempt on my life every year so far," he said dryly. "I guess he thinks it's a new trend." Well, it was the truth, wasn't it?  
  
Ron said nothing. He opened the door to the compartment. He stepped inside, but Harry paused. He had seen a familiar silver-blonde head further down the corridor, and waved. To his surprise, Draco nodded back to him, their eyes locking.  
  
"Harry! Have a seat, old boy," George's voice came.  
  
Harry snapped back to reality and stepped into the compartment. He remembered to breathe again as he sat next to the twins. He waved to Lee, Ginny, and Hermione.  
  
"So, Harry, do anything worth mentioning over the summer?" asked Fred, grinning. He knew very well what Harry had done. Hermione frowned.  
  
"Other than blowing up my aunt, running away from the Dursleys, and staying at the Leaky Cauldron?" he asked lightly. "No, not really. Well," he conceded, "I did make some new friends."  
  
"Oh really? Who?" Hermione apparently preferred this topic.  
  
"Florean Fortescue, Tom at the Leaky Cauldron... just people I saw around..." he answered vaguely.  
  
"Cool," commented Lee. "I found a book of spells at my aunt's house. Mum would have a fit if she knew... I want to try some of them out this year." He grinned, and George and Fred perked up.  
  
"What kind of spells?" asked Ron curiously. Hermione's lips pursed in perfect imitation of Professor McGonnagal.  
  
"We can't tell, but maybe you can help us test them," said Fred.  
  
"No thanks," said Ron hastily. Ginny giggled.  
  
Around one o'clock, a witch pushing the food cart knocked on the door interrupting the three older boys' plotting session. She left them with the extra seats piled high with treats; Harry had bought enough to share. They eagerly dug into their pile of treasure: Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Cockroach Clusters, Cauldron Cakes, and a new oddity: Chocolate Charms. George was the bravest, and tried the first. Everyone laughed as his eyelashes suddenly grew several inches and became very curly. George just batted his eyes at them, blowing kisses.  
  
As the train rattled on, what had begun as a light rain poured down heavily, darkening the car. The lanterns flickered on as the sky lost its light, and the storm grew worse. Harry wondered if the school's lake would flood. Still, the chatter in the car didn't falter, and time passed quickly.  
  
"We must be nearly there," commented Ron. As if on cue, they realized that the train was indeed slowing. "Good! I'm starving. I want to get to the feast..." he pressed his freckled nose against the window and tried to peer out, but nothing was visible past the sheets of rain.  
  
"We can't be there yet," said Hermione, checking her watch confusedly.  
  
"So why're we stopping?"  
  
"Maybe a bunch of salamanders are crossing the tracks," suggested Fred.  
  
"Or rare poisonous snails," added George helpfully.  
  
Harry stood up and slid the door open, stepping into the corridor. In both directions, students' heads were curiously poking out the their compartments. Suddenly, the train stopped with a jolt, and Harry fell into the corridor, rolling to one side to avoid being hit by falling luggage. Without warning, the lanterns went out, plunging the Hogwarts Express into darkness.  
  
Harry's first thought to explain the blackness was that he was unconscious. But, he reasoned, if he was unconscious, he wouldn't be conscious of it. With some difficulty, he pushed himself up and opened the compartment door.  
  
"It's me," he said, feeling his way back to his seat.  
  
"Who?" came a voice from his right. It sounded like the owner was trying very hard not to sound frightened.  
  
Harry froze. He realized suddenly that he must have accidentally gone into the compartment across the hall from his. Oops.  
  
"Hullo. I'm in the compartment across the hall. Sorry..." he turned to leave, but the voice stopped him.  
  
"Wait!" it said quickly. "Pot- Harry?"  
  
"Yes, I'm -" his eyes had become somewhat used to the dark, and he could now make out the form of the person he was talking to. A slim, white-blonde haired boy stared back at him with wide, gray eyes. "Draco?" he asked, incredulous. The other nodded. "Where're Crabbe and Goyle?" he asked, voicing the first coherent thought he had.  
  
"With Blaise," Draco answered quietly, "looking for more food."  
  
Harry could hear the fear leaving the Slytherin's voice, and, from what he could see, the other's rigid body was slowly relaxing a bit. He realized that, if he had been alone and the train had stopped and gone completely dark, he'd be glad of someone's company, too.  
  
"Do you know what's going on?" Draco asked. "I can hardly see you."  
  
Suddenly Harry remembered the time when, in their first year at Hogwarts, he, Ron, Neville, and Draco had been taken into the Forbidden Forest to serve detention. It seemed to him that Draco - Malfoy, back then - had stayed unusually close to his side when they were alone. It dawned on him that his former-nemesis was scared of being alone, especially in the dark. Wordlessly, he moved to the seat beside Draco and put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"I don't know, but I'm sure it'll be okay." Harry paused. "We're friends now, right?" he asked quietly. Hesitating only a moment, the other nodded. "Then I won't leave. It's good to have a friend in the dark, Draco."  
  
The pale boy nodded, grateful, and, Harry could see, a bit embarrassed.  
  
Cold. Harry suddenly felt cold, and the door slid to the compartment slid open without warning. The two froze, staring at the silhouette in the doorway. It was a tall, thin figure, cloaked so that no part of its body showed. Intimidated by the looming and forboding creature, neither of the boys spoke. Then the thing - Harry didn't think it was human - drew in a breath, slow, long, and rattling. It was as if it had sucked the warmth out of each of them, and Harry gasped. He felt as if an icy hand had clutched his heart. He heard Draco whimper, and tense under Harry's hand. Harry, meanwhile, couldn't breathe. His eyes rolled up into his head as he felt his consciousness slipping away. He felt as if he was being dragged down, a loud rushing noise filling his head... and then he heard screams. Terrible, terrified, pleading screams. He wanted to help, to do something. He couldn't move, he -  
Ooh... don't you hate cliffhangers? ::smirks:: 


	9. What Are Slytherins Like?

Author's Note: Yay! More! ^_^  
Harry felt someone shaking him lightly, a hand brushing his bangs away from his eyes. A soft voice was calling his name. "Harry... Harry? Wake up." He tried to open his eyes, but couldn't. "Harry? The voice sounded worried. "Potter! Get up! Please, Harry, you said you wouldn't leave... You promised, you jerk."  
  
Draco! Harry struggled to open his eyes or something. Apparently he succeeded in letting out a moan, because the next thing he felt was a cool hand on his forehead.  
  
"You're awake."  
  
He finally opened his eyes. The lights were back on and the Hogwarts Express was moving again. Draco regarded him anxiously, although Harry could tell that, now that the danger - or whatever it had been - had passed, the boy was trying to look superior and cold again.  
  
"Save it, Draco," he murmured weakly. "I'm the only one here. You can be yourself. Don't act." Their eyes met. Draco's eyes widened and his mouth opened, but, at that moment, there was a soft knock on the door.  
  
It slid quietly open and a man stood there. He looked fairly young, Harry thought, maybe early thirties, but he had a lot of gray hair. His face was smooth, but tired, and his robes were badly in need of either repair or replacement. He appeared kind, however, and his eyes were alert.  
  
Harry saw the sneer come back into place on Draco's face, and he sighed inwardly. He was, however, intrigued. Why was there an adult onboard the Express, and who was he? And, more importantly, why was he at their door?  
  
The stranger entered and smiled at them both. His eyebrows shot up as his gaze landed on Harry, but he didn't mention the scar on his forehead.  
  
Instead, he asked, "Are you boys alright? You look a bit pale." He knelt beside Harry. "I'm Professor Lupin. I'm the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," he explained, seeing their confusion. "Here," he offered them both a piece of chocolate. "Eat it."  
  
Harry struggled to sit up. Lupin helped him, then pushed a small piece of chocolate between his lips. "Chew, Harry. It'll help," Lupin told him. He did, and was surprised to feel warmth spreading through his body. Eagerly, he accepted more. Draco ate his, now, too, apparently trusting Lupin now that Harry hadn't been poisoned.  
  
"Professor," Harry began after he had swallowed, "how did you know my name?"  
  
"And what just happened?" added Draco.  
  
Lupin smiled. "I know your name, Harry, because you look extraordinarily like James Potter. I went to school with him. I would assume that you," he continued, turning to Draco, "are Lucius Malfoy's son." Draco nodded. Lupin's smile left his face. "And that," he jerked his head towards the door, "was a dementor. One of the dementors of Azkaban."  
  
"A dementor? But what are they doing out here if they're from Azkaban?"  
  
"Probably looking for Sirius Black, Harry," said Lupin quietly. He looked almost sad, although Harry couldn't fathom why. The professor stood up. "Well, you two seem to be okay. I'm going to check on the other students. It was nice to finally meet you, Harry. I'll be seeing you around. You too, Mr. Malfoy..." he looked at the quiet, pale boy.  
  
"Draco," Draco answered the unasked question. He looked down at the floor.  
  
Lupin smiled. "Nice to have met you, Draco." He turned and stepped back into the corridor, sliding the door closed behind him.  
  
Harry looked at Draco. "I passed out." The other nodded. "It was really cold and I felt like I'd never be happy again. I..." he hesitated. "I heard someone - a woman - screaming."  
  
Draco lifted startled eyes to Harry's face. "Screaming?"  
  
Harry nodded. "How about you? What happened?"  
  
"It got really cold," he said after a moment. "It - the dementor - kind of smelled us, I suppose, then just turned and left. I shut the door and noticed you were lying on the floor, and tried to wake you up."  
  
They both fell silent. Harry's mind reeled. He'd fainted? And heard screaming? He shuddered, pushing it from his mind. When had he gotten so pitiful? He also wondered about Sirius Black. Lupin had sounded sad when he had mentioned him, and had said he was the reason the dementors had stopped the train. Dementors. He wondered what was under those cloaks, and what they would do when they found Black. Why had they made him so cold, and faint? He also pondered Professor Lupin. It was strange for a professor to ride the Hogwarts Express. He seemed nice, though. Harry hoped he would last longer than Quirrel or Lockhart. He sighed; how would Professor Snape take not getting the DADA position - again? Harry's mind drifted to Slytherin, and to the boy beside him. All the Slytherins had seemed so cruel, and yet here was Draco Malfoy, their infamous ringleader, being kind and caring towards Harry. He didn't get it. Or maybe, a thought occurred to him, it was like Snape? A mask, a façade, a reputation to maintain? But then, what were Slytherins like to each other? The one time he and Ron had been insiders - using the Polyjuice Potion last year - Draco had been in a bad mood, but certainly civil to the two whom he thought to be Crabbe and Goyle. Now, though...  
  
Harry's thoughts were interrupted, and both his and Draco's heads snapped up as the door burst open for the third time in the past ten minutes. Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and one of the twins - Harry thought it was Fred - stood in the doorway.  
  
"The new professor, Lupin, came back through just now and we asked him where you were and he said in here with a friend -" Ron exclaimed breathlessly, then abruptly stopped as he caught sight of the 'friend.' "Malfoy," he sneered, doing a very good impression of said Slytherin. "A friend, huh? You were probably trying to hex Harry in the dark." Ron's wand was out. It was new, Harry noted as he snatched it away. Ron and the others gasped. Hermione eyed Draco warily, but left her wand in her pocket.  
  
"I'm glad you were all worried about me," he said frowning, "but Draco here was the one who really helped me. And Professor Lupin, of course." Harry realized this sounded a bit cold. "How are you guys?" he asked more warmly, handing Ron his wand back with a look and a shake of his head.  
  
"Fine, now, Harry," Hermione answered timidly. "But something - Lupin called it a dementor - the dementor was terrible. It was so cold..."  
  
"But nothing happened, no one was hurt or... or reacted oddly to it?" he pressed, glancing at Draco, whose face was an unreadable mask.  
  
"No..." she replied slowly. "Why? Are you ok, Harry?" she took her eyes off of Draco to question Harry.  
  
"Fine," he replied shortly. He got up off the floor and sat in one of the seats next to Draco. "But I'd like to stay here for a while. I'd like to talk to Draco about something," he said casually.  
  
"You WANT-" Hermione kicked Ron and pulled him back into their compartment. Ginny followed.  
  
Fred stayed a moment. "Malfoy?" he said after a moment, tilting his head to one side.  
  
"What, Weasley?" Draco looked at him with distaste, crossing his arms across his chest.  
  
"Thanks. For whatever you did." Fred suddenly grinned. "You're usually an ass, Malfoy, but I'll bet you're nice to your friends. So - thanks." He closed the door to the compartment quietly.  
  
Draco stared. "He - He -" he spluttered in disbelief, "He thanked me?"  
  
Harry chuckled. "Yes. The Weasleys may be poor, but they're - usually - some of the nicest people I know." He looked pointedly at the pale boy, who scowled sulkily.  
  
After a moment, though, "What did you want to talk to me about?"  
  
"Oh. That. Well... d'you remember our other conversation? After I bumped into you at the Apothecary..." Draco smirked, nodding. "Well, I said something about Slytherins being okay, at least to their friends. What are Slytherins like?" He bit his lip, hoping he didn't sound to eager. It was still a bit awkward to be talking civilly, much less being friendly to, Draco Malfoy of all people.  
  
Draco looked thoughtful. "Well, we're loyal. We stick together, and it's almost like... a family, I suppose. A real one," he said softly, and Harry wondered what he meant by that, but didn't interrupt. "We're sneaky, too. We can get around unnoticed when we want, and only a Slytherin can see us - if they know how to look." He smirked, and Harry stuck his tongue out at him. "We tend to think before we do something, I think... in that aspect we're the opposite of you Gryffindors. You're brave and rush headlong into things without caring what could happen to you or your House points. Slytherins consider their actions. If they will benefit - either personally or as a whole House - and the benefits outweight the losses, then they do it. If not, they don't." He stopped to catch his breath. "Another thing - we're honest, when at all possible. Yes, we'll lie to protect someone, but we usually only bend the truth in those cases. We're honest, but brutally so. We don't hold back. If you asked... oh, I don't know..."  
  
"How does my hair look?" Harry offered, smiling.  
  
Draco snickered. "I'd say 'Harry, your hair's a mess, like it always is.'" He smirked. "But it's the truth, and not necessarily a bad thing. Fact is not opinion."  
  
"So, you admit that Hermione's kind and intelligent?" he asked.  
  
Draco sneered. "Yes, I can't argue that. But I could also add that her teeth are big, her hair's frizzy, her parents are muggles, and that she's a know-it-all. None of which you could argue, either."  
  
Harry harumphed. "Well, the know-it-all's my friend, despite all that. Just like you're my friend, despite being an ass towards me for two years, insulting my friends for things they have no control over, and getting me into trouble at every opportunity," he said firmly.  
  
"Well," said Draco, wincing, "when you put it that way - very Slytherin of you, Potter, very Slytherin - why were you so... nice to me? In the Apothecary, I mean," he asked, looking a bit annoyed. "It would be much easier to go on hating each other."  
  
Harry mumbled something before he could stop himself.  
  
"What?"  
  
He took a deep breath. "Not if I'm in Slytherin this year," he repeated quietly. He didn't look at Draco.  
  
"If you're what?" gasped Draco incredulously.  
  
Sighing, Harry told him how the Sorting Hat had wanted to put him in Slytherin. He told him about his conversation with Dumbledore , and the chess game with Snape, at which point Draco looked like his jaw would break from hanging open so long." Harry left out, however, Dumbledore's theory about the transfer of powers from Voldemort. He didn't know how Draco, or any of the Slytherins, would react, and he didn't really want it to matter. So he didn't mention it. He grinned wryly to himself - the downsides outweighed the benefits. When Harry got to the part where he bumped into Draco, he paused.  
  
"When I saw who it was I'd bumped into, my first though was, Does he remember our conversation from the last day of school? I figured that you would probably be my biggest problem if I was put into Slytherin this year, so I might as well try to improve our relationship then. So I tried. I was afraid it wasn't working until you told me to call you Draco." He said softly, "I'm glad we're friends, even if I don't get put into Slytherin." He looked away. "At this point, I don't know if I have any friends left, other than you. Ironic, isn't it?"  
  
Draco had felt a bit hurt when he'd heard that Harry only tried to be friends to prevent all Hell from breaking loose, but admonished himself. It didn't matter what the initial incentive was, only how he felt now. And what Draco felt now was outrage.  
  
"You mean Weasley and Granger are... are abandoning you? Just because of what the Sorting Hat might say? I thought they were your best friends...!" he hissed. His gray eyes narrowed.  
  
Harry quickly spoke up for them. "No! Yes! Well, no, not yet at any rate. They'll be fine just as long as I'm put into Gryffindor again. They're sure I will be, and they're probably right, too. I mean..."  
  
"You don't think so," Draco said quietly. "Be honest. Whether they're Slytherin or not, we're honest with our friends, and loyal."  
  
Harry's voice caught in his throat. Was this Draco Malfoy? "I..." he began. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I... I don't know. I don't think I'd be put in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, I'm not... I'm not sure. I tried the Sorting Hat on again," he confessed, "in Dumbledore's office, before he came in to talk with me. It said it stood by what it had said before - that I would have done well in Slytherin." He was silent for a moment. "I'm confused. Why would it matter to Ron and Hermione? I'm still the same guy. I've been Harry all along. Maybe... they think that I don't like Gryffindor? That's not true; I love it. But... I want to be where I'm supposed to be. Obviously, the reason I gave for not wanting to be in Slytherin no longer exists."  
  
Draco glanced at him, lips momentarily twisting into a wry sneer, and they sat quietly for a moment before Harry continued. "I just have to know. I just -" he bit his lip. "I don't want to lose my friends. They were the first ones to get to know me, The-Boy-Who-Was-Really-Like-Everyone-Else, not The-Boy-Who-Lived. I hate that. I don't even know what I did - if anything - and it's supposed to make me great? How can I live up to that? I'm not some all-powerful wizard, just a boy with a bit of luck. I'm not great."  
  
"Yes you are," Draco broke in, growling.  
  
"What? Not you too... I'm just -"  
  
"You're a great Seeker. You're a great friend. You're a great person," he half sneered. "Just because you're not some boy-genius or some almighty savior doesn't mean you've FAILED anyone, Harry Potter. You've made your way in this world without any parents, and with everyone expecting you to do so much. You're important, more important than you know," he glared at Harry. "You're an important symbol of hope to wizards who fight the Dark Lord. You're an important person to the teachers here - they love you! You're important to your Quidditch team. You're important to your friends. You're important to m - to a lot of people." He sat back and crossed his arms across his chest, his ash gray eyes boring into Harry's own emerald depths.  
  
The two lapsed into silence again for several long minutes as the train began to slow again. They must have been nearing Hogsmeade. Harry was startled out of his reverie when a soft hand wiped a tear off his cheek. He wasn't even aware that he'd been crying.  
  
"Harry." It was soft, almost warm. "Harry, it's okay. At least in Slytherin, we look at what you do, and who you are." He grimaced. "But don't expect us to apply that to Mud - Muggleborns or Muggles. Some prejudices were ingrained to us from day one." He sneered, although Harry couldn't tell whether it was at Muggles or at... himself?  
  
Impulsively, Harry hugged Draco. It shocked both himself and Draco, who stiffened in surprise. Harry quickly let go. "Thanks, Draco," he said quietly.  
  
Draco's lips slowly tugged upwards until Harry barely convinced himself he wasn't dreaming. Draco Malfoy was actually smiling at him. 


	10. The ReSorting

Ooooh... Chapter 10 up! Yay! ::grins:: So... HEY did anyone go see the new Star Trek movie? Nemesis? It was pretty good, I thought. A bit predictable, and too dramatic or cliché sometimes, but other than that, definitely worth seeing at least once. I can't wait to see LOTR: The Two Towers! YAY! Although I'm MORE interested in when book 5 (HP and the Order of the Phoenix, right?) comes out. Does anyone know a date? A rumor? Anything? ::sighs::  
  
Note to all: Now, the difficult task to assign people schedules is coming up. I'm trying to be true to the books, but it's hard. G/S will still have CoMC together, as well as Potions. I'm going to manipulate some stuff, but bear with me. and don't nitpick! ^_^ Also, since Harry wasn't there, I really haven't got any idea about who was sorted into what house or what their names were - just imagine they're there, ok? _  
  
Kyuu: I'll read those fics asap! Tell me what you think of this so far, kk? And please please please give me ideas on making Draco less OOC! ::cries::  
  
The trait had arrived in Hogsmeade's station. After it had stopped, they stood and opened the door to their compartment, looking out into the corridor. Students were already scrambling to get off of the Hogwarts Express, and Harry and Draco waited for an opening to squeeze out. Knowing their luggage would be taken care of, they stepped onto the wooden platform and into the icy rain.  
  
Over the cacophony of owls, cats, Neville's toad, Trevor, and the students' chatter, Harry could barely hear Draco's words. The pale Slytherin put his lips to Harry's ear and repeated, "C'mon - we take carriages to school. You missed that last year, didn't you?" Harry flushed as he remembered the incident with the Weasleys' flying car. The blonde laughed.  
  
"Firs' years this way!" Hagrid's familiar roar could be heard over the calamity. Draco rolled his eyes as Harry waved to him. Beaming, Hagrid waved back, but stopped in shock as he saw who Harry was walking with. Grinning, Harry threw an arm around Draco's neck, who threw a glare at him, but tolerated the intrusion. Harry laughed, and left a very confused gamekeeper scratching his head in the rain.  
  
As Harry couldn't see where his Gryffindor friends - he hoped - had gone, he and Draco climbed into a carriage near the end with only one other occupant - Professor Lupin. Lupin smiled at the two as they closed the door behind them. As the carriage set off by itself - perhaps there were invisible horses? - Harry could see Draco taking in the state of Lupin's robes and tattered suitcase. However, because of the wizard's prior kindness to him and Harry, he said nothing.  
  
"Hello, Draco; Harry," the professor greeted them. "Feeling alright?"  
  
Harry remembered the chocolate Lupin had given them after he woke up. "Yes, thanks," he replied. "The chocolate helped a lot."  
  
Draco nodded too, and Lupin's smile broadened.  
  
"Good," he said, placing his hands in his lap. "Because here are some more of those creatures." His cheerfulness did not hide the flicker of annoyance and dislike of the dementors.  
  
Indeed, Harry could see through the window, that two more dementors guarded the Hogwarts gate. He leaned quickly back in his seat, shutting his eyes tightly until the wave of cold sickness had left him. The screaming did not come this time. When they'd passed the gates and Harry opened his eyes, both Draco and Professor Lupin were watching him with concern, although Draco's was hidden in his eyes alone. He smiled weakly at them, and gratefully accepted another small piece of chocolate from Lupin.  
  
At last, the carriage rolled to a stop in front of Hogwarts. Draco got out first and held the door open for Harry and Professor Lupin.  
  
"I'm not gonna faint again, you know," Harry said, flushing. He was briefly reminded of Arthur Weasley's over-protective-ness.  
  
"Can't a guy be nice?" Draco asked, glancing sideways at Harry.  
  
"If you were such a gentleman, then you'd escort me to the door!" he teased.  
  
Draco bowed, his cloak sweeping to one side. "Right this way, sir," he said politely.  
  
He lifted his head and grinned at Harry. They laughed. Eagerly they let the crowd pull them towards the doors. Once inside, Harry caught sight of Ron and Hermione, but couldn't get to them. Curious, he watched as McGonagall pulled Hermione to the side and led her down another hall. He'd ask later, he decided.  
  
At the entrance to the Great Hall, he made his way to the Gryffindor table while Draco headed for Slytherin with a nod and the barest of smiles. They were back in public, after all. Harry sat down next to Ron, who scooted over obediently, but didn't say anything. Harry sighed and turned to Ginny, who blushed.  
  
"D'you know where McGonagall took Hermione, Ginny?" he asked. She shook her head.  
  
"No. She said something about discussing her schedule..." the youngest Weasley shrugged. A moment later, Professor Flitwick brought a three-legged stool to the front and the Hall grew quiet. The first years were lined up nevously, double-file, against one wall. Harry felt his stomach do a flip- flop. He knew exactly how they felt. He licked his lips nervously and glanced up at the staff table. Dumbledore was beaming at the first years, but he met Snape's gaze. The Potions Master's lips twitched, and he nodded to Harry, who smiled back weakly. His eyes flickered to Professor Lupin and to Hagrid. They both smiled at him. He wished his stomach would stop doing gymnastics.  
  
He felt the hairs on his neck prickle, and turned his face to the Slytherin table. He found Draco looking straight at him. Calm down, Harry, his level gaze seemed to say. If you're going to be a Slytherin, be confident. Don't let anyone see that you're scared. It's okay. Harry held the other's gaze a moment longer, then broke it off as Flitwick cleared his throat. Harry realized that the Sorting Hat had already sung, and tried not to feel sick.  
  
The little wizard at the front unrolled a long roll of parchment. "Abell, Gregory!" he called in a shrill voice.  
  
A small, pink boy with sandy brown hair jumped and made his way forward. He tripped over the hem of his too-long robes, but successfully reached the stool without falling. Hesitantly, he picked up the hat and placed it on his head. It slipped down over his nose, and Seamus, sitting across from Harry, chuckled. After a moment, the Hat proclaimed the boy a HUFFLEPUFF! and Gregory ran off to join his new Housemates. Everyone clapped politely, and the Hufflepuffs cheered.  
  
"Amons, Katherin," became the newest addition to Ravenclaw, and "Azerath, Mohan," was welcomed into Gryffindor. Soon, Harry stopped listening. He felt sick. What would he do? Would Ron and Hermione forgive him? Forgive him for what, exactly? What about Mr. and Mrs. Weasley? Hagrid? His professors? He tried to imagine peoples' reactions if he was put into Slytherin. He thought his professors would be surprised, to say the least, but kind. He thought Neville, Seamus, Dean, and Colin would probably be confused and act awkwardly around him. He knew Ron and percy would be dismayed, and Ginny hurt. Hermione would be disappointed in him, but try to be nice. He guessed that Fred and George would be okay, though. They seemed to get along with at least a couple of people in every House. He was glad of that. He sighed. What would happen would happen, no use worrying. His stomach didn't listen, though; he still felt sick.  
  
"Zander, Rowan." The last first year, a boy with dark brown hair and pale skin came forward to be sorted into Ravenclaw. Harry paled. At that moment, Hermione sat down beside him.  
  
"Where've you been?" Ron hissed. She opened her mouth to answer, but, at that moment, Dumbledore stood up. The Great Hall fell silent, and Harry closed his eyes.  
  
"Welcome," the Headmaster began, "to all of our new first years!" Loud applause and cheers erupted, and Dumbledore waited patiently for a minute. "...And, of course, to all our returning students." More cheers. "Now, I know that you all are starving, but the Sorting is not quite done." He surveyed them gravely.  
  
The students whispered furiously among themselves, confused.  
  
"What's he mean, there aren't any more first years," Seamus whispered to Dean. "Is he blind?"  
  
"Dunno. Maybe the kid's invisible," Dean suggested.  
  
"I think he's finally lost it," confided Parvati.  
  
"Shh. let him explain!" said Lavender.  
  
Hermione and Ron looked at each other, then at Harry. Harry drew a deep breath.  
  
"At the end of last year, continued Dumbledore, "it was brought to my attention that one of you was Sorted under... unusual circumstances. The Sorting Hat must not be influenced by outside sources. In order to insure the best conditions for this student, and for any other in the future who should find themselves in a similar situation, we have decided to allow a re-sorting." His gaze swept over the silent Hall and settled on Harry. His eyes softened. Harry looked back, nervously clasping and unclasping his hands.  
  
Professor Flitwick cleared his throat and squeaked, "Harry Potter!"  
  
The Hall gasped collectively. Harry Potter? The first years craned their necks to get their first glimpse of The Boy Who Lived. The rest, third years especially, muttered amongst themselves. Harry? What unusual circumstances? What other House could he possible belong in?  
  
Harry sat, frozen to his seat. Ron hissed at him, and Hermione nudged him in the ribs. It was, again, Draco's level gaze, that got him to stand. Tearing his focus off of his... friend - he tested the word on his tongue - and not meeting anyone else's eyes, he silently made his way to the front. Aware of the hundreds of pairs of eyes locked on him, he took the proffered Hat from his Charms professor and sat on the stool. Taking a deep breath, he placed it over his head.  
  
It still covered his eyes, he noticed wildly as the voice buzzed familiarly in his ear.  
  
"Ho, ho! So, you're back, are you? Did you see the crop we got today? Some very nice minds, very nice. Not many new Slytherins, though. Very nice crop, yes..."  
  
Harry gritted his teeth. "Get on with it, will you?" he muttered, clutching the seat of the stool.  
  
"Patience is a virtue!" quipped the Hat. "You've come to me three times, you know."  
  
"I know, and this'll be the last."  
  
"You're not going to try to do my job for me this time, are you?" It sounded almost hurt. "I've been doing this for centuries. It's my only purpose, in fact. Don't you think I have a good idea of where to put you kids? But nooooo," it went on, "Mr. Harry Potter just has to be in Gryffindor. Won't listen to the Sorting Hat. No, not even a month of knowing about the existence of the wizarding world, but he knows where he belongs, yes sir!"  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Look, I'm sorry. But you can do your job, now, okay?" He tried to ignore the murmurs from the students looking on.  
  
"I can put you anywhere?" asked the Hat suspiciously.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Even if you're put in Hufflepuff?"  
  
Harry blinked. "Wherever I belong," he answered slowly.  
  
"Promise?"  
  
"Promise."  
  
The Hat was silent. "Well, that's certainly a pleasant change of attitude. It's been very nice getting to know you, Mr. Potter. Now that I know even more about you... Well, I guess I'm still convinced that you, Harry, Potter, belong in SLYTHERIN!" It yelled the last word gleefully.  
  
Harry pulled the Hat off wincing. It had hollered right in his ear. He glared at the Hat, which seemed, to him, a bit smug-looking. As he turned around, though, he froze. The Hall was dead silent. Heart sinking, he completed the turn and sought familiar faces. Ron wouldn't look at him. Hermione gaped at him in open disbelief. Neville looked like he would cry, and Colin Creevy, somewhat to Harry's satisfaction, seemed to have gone into shock. Fred and George looked extremely surprised, but gave gave him weak smiles. As Harry's gaze swept the room, he saw varying degrees of surprise, horror, and unease. Finally, though, he caught sight of Draco, and smiled. The Slytherin - his fellow Slytherin, he corrected himself - was twitching his lips at him. There was no other way to describe it. Harry almost laughed as he saw Draco switching between three expressions - glaring at Harry's Gryffindor 'friends,' smiling at Harry, and trying to appear superior and arrogant simulataneously. He finally gave up, decided that no one's attention was on him, and beckoned Harry over, allowing his face to break into a rare full grin.  
  
Harry jumped when he felt a hand on his arm. He looked down. "You may sit down, now, Mr. Potter," Flitwick murmured. His eyes were sad, although Harry couldn't tell whether it was because of the results of the re-sorting or because of the reactions from the students. Harry nodded to him, and, in the paralyzed silence, he walked slowly to the Slytherin table. Gratefully, he sank down in the space between Draco and the boy called Blaise Zabini. Draco smiled at him, a private smile. Two Slytherins can indeed be friends, Mr. Potter, he seemed to be saying. Harry let his head rest on his arms on the table. Draco's hand came to rest descreetly on his back, out of view. He could feel Ron glaring daggers at him, could almost hear the thoughts running though his "best friend's" head: 'He... he... I don't believe it. The traitor...! Slytherin... traitor... Harry...' Harry sighed inaudibly. Yes, that's certainly what Ron would be saying.  
  
Finally, the unbearable silence was broken when Dumbledore began to speak again. "Well," he said, adjusting his half-moon glasses. "Well. I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by out excellent feast..." Harry lifted his head. It was odd to be seated at this end of the Great Hall. He was now closer than ever to Snape, and Dumbledore sounded rather farther away. "As you all will be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban who are here on Ministry of Magic business. They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds, and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave the school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises, or even Invisibility Cloaks." Harry glanced at Ron, who was sneering at him, he realized with a start. Hurt, he turned away.  
  
" - warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you," Dumbledore was saying. "I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure no student runs afoul of the dementors."  
  
The Headmaster paused, then smiled. "On a happier note, I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."  
  
There was some unenthusiastic applause, but Harry and, he was pleased to see, Draco clapped hard. Lupin smiled at them and waved.  
  
"What's up with Professor Snape?" Blaise asked quietly. Harry and Draco looked at the Potions Master.  
  
Severus Snape looked livid. His expression went beyond anger - loathing, even... all directed at the mild Lupin.  
  
"Is he mad about not getting the position?" Harry asked.  
  
"No, he'd be used to it by now," answered Draco quietly. "He's got to know Professor Lupin from somewhere. See? He just nodded to him."  
  
The Headmaster spoke up again. "As to our second new appointment, well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."  
  
After a stunned silence, clapping broke out all over the Great Hall, especially at the Gryffindor table. Harry was the most enthusiastic by far from Slytherin, but, as he wasn't in a very festive mood, let his hands drop after a minute. Ron and Hermione were the last to stop clapping, and Harry saw Hagrid wipe his eyes with the tablecloth.  
  
"Well, I think that's everything of importance!" said Dumbledore. "Let the feast begin!"  
Chapter eleven coming up soon, I promise! I have midterms this week, but then I have two weeks vacation... I hope to get a move on then! ^_^ Reviews are read and fawned over...! ::Blushes:: it's my first (publicly available) fic! Be nice... 


	11. Introductions

Author's Note: Chapter 11's up... I'll shut up so you can read. ^_^()  
  
In spite of all that had happened that night - or perhaps because of it - Harry found that he was ravenous. He eagerly dug into the delightful delectables that appeared on the tables. Roast potatoes, sausages, chicken, bread, soufflés, and other treats were passed around. Pumpkin juice washed it down, followed by apple pies and pumpkin tarts.  
  
During dinner, Harry and the new first years were introduced to all the Slytherins. "I was only put into Gryffindor because Draco Malfoy was being a git. I couldn't stand the though of being in the same house as him!" Harry explained to them. They laughed, and, very soon, he was accepted by most as a new addition to the family - someone not to be trusted until proven worthy, but still someone to protect and include. A couple sixth- and seventh-years still regarded him darkly, but were not openly hostile.  
  
Blaise Zabini he liked. A small, quiet boy with a dark complexion, he was very polite. He also had a very sharp mind, he discovered, and a rather twisted sense of humor.  
  
Millicent Bulstrode was gruff, but he that she was actually a bit like Crabbe and Goyle - content to let others be witty and clever, she was left with the physical tough-girl image. She was very protective of the first- year Slytherins, and was seen comforting one who was homesick. She was also very attached to her cat, Muffin. Harry grinned.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle were the sons of Lucius Malfoy's associates, and were frequent guests at the Malfoy Manner. Their dads answered to Mr. Malfoy, and they had taken up following Draco around as bodyguards. ("I tried to get them to stop; I can't get any privacy. But they seem set upon it, and they do come in handy at times," he had confided quietly.) They weren't clever, but did, Harry was surprised to discover, have personalities and their own unique talents. Vincent Crabbe was a junior boxing champion, and worked out every night. Gregory Goyle was a talented pianist. Harry was amazed.  
  
Slowly, each student up and down the table introduced themselves. Draco was last.  
  
"Draco Malfoy," he smirked," third year. I'm an ass if you're not a friend, but I can be a friend -"  
  
" - in which case, he's one of the best friends you could have," finished Harry, smiling. "But he's still an ass." Draco mock-glared at him, and the Slytherins laughed.  
  
After dinner, a Slytherin prefect led the way into the entrance hall. Harry followed the rest of the Slytherins, glancing at the Gryffindors' retreating forms heading towards the tower. He, however, was taken down unfamiliar corridors and staircases until they reached the dungeons. The group came to a halt in from of an ordinary, non-descript wall. Harry recognized it as the entrance to the Slytherin common room from last year when he and Ron had masqueraded as Crabbe and Goyle. He would have to tell Draco about that, he thought, grinning to himself. The Prefect spoke loudly, "Remember this wall. You'll probably get lost the first couple days. Just look for one of the older students - it's not that hard to recognize." He cleared his throat. "Serpentia." The hidden stone door slid to the side, and the Slytherins slowly filed in. As Harry stepped through the entrance, he noticed that things were slightly different from last year, but comfortable. There was a fire in the fireplace at the end of the long, narrow room. A couch and several high-backed armchairs faced it. The walls, made of large gray stones, were hung with tapestries. His favorite, Harry decided, was a large one with a green, black, and silver dragon on it. Its eyes were polished stones, and flickered in the light, making it impossible to tell what color they were. The floor, too, was gray stone, but a thick, dark silver carpet covered most of it. Most of the upholstery was a rich, dark green, thus completing the Slytherin scheme, with bits of black, blue or purple thrown in tastefully. And, in one of the black chairs sat a man, Harry now noticed with a start, whose black eyes, hair, and robes blended in perfectly.  
  
"Welcome," Professor Snape said quietly, standing, and instantly the room fell silent. "Welcome, Slytherins, most cunning of students, most dangerous of enemies, most loyal of friends. Welcome to Hogwarts." His eyes glittered. Harry was intrigued, watching the professor's every movement, eager to see how he acted among those of his own House. "I am Professor Severus Snape," he continued softly, "your Potions Master and Head of House. I am your guardian while you are here. I will lay down your rules, and I will punish you." He glared around. Then, to Harry's amazement, his face softened. "I will also protect you and reward you. If you have any problems or concerns, you may come to me. Older students will be able to help you as well. Now," he raised his voice, "get to bed, the lot of you. You must be exhausted." He smirked - or did he actually smile? - and moved aside. The students surged forward, splitting off to go to their respective dorms; girls to the left, boys to the right.  
  
"Draco, Harry, a word," Snape called. Harry groaned inwardly. He was tired! But he turned around and, with Draco, made their way out of the throng of students and went to stand in front of Snape. Harry heard snatches of conversation from the other students as they filed out:  
  
"He looked so scary at first!"  
  
"It's dark down here. Cozy, though."  
  
"I'm tired."  
  
"Come on, Blaise, don't lag...!"  
  
When the last student had left, Snape spoke to Harry, amusement evident in his eyes. "Harry, I must admit that I didn't quite believe that you would end up here. But I see you did, and it's my responsibility to welcome you," the Potions Master's thin lips twisted into the semblance of a smile, and Harry smiled back tentatively. "Draco," Snape continued," I'd like for you to help him. He's not an idiot, he'll be fine soon, but make the transition smoother, alright?" Draco nodded. Harry fidgeted. Snape arched an eyebrow. "Yes, Harry? Have you got a question? Speak up," he commanded.  
  
Harry swallowed. "Sir, why - why are you using my first name?" He flushed; it sounded stupid. "I don't mind, I mean, it's a nice change, it's just - you've never -" he stopped.  
  
After a nod from the older wizard, Draco explained. "I told you it's like a family, Harry. In here, we use first names. It's supposed to be a sign of trust, I think." Snape nodded. Harry opened his mouth, then shut it.  
  
"If you were wondering," Snape said dryly, "yes, you may address me as 'Severus.' But only in here, and only on a one-on-one basis. Understood?" Harry reddened, and nodded. "But no more tonight - to bed! And don't be late to breakfast. Slytherins are not lazy." He spun, his robes swishing behind him, and slipped out of the room.  
  
After he had left, Draco sighed. "I wish I could get my robes to do that," he muttered enviously. Harry laughed.  
  
Draco led him down a flight of stairs and to a large, dimly lit room. It was hexagonal, with one bed against each of the five walls not taken up by the doorway. The four-posters, three of which were already occupied, were identical to the ones in the Gryffindor tower, except that their draperies and sheets were green, not scarlet. Harry found that he liked these better. He looked around and saw his trunk at the end of the bed immediately to his left. Yawning, he moved to the bed and opened his trunk, sifting through his belongings in search of his pajamas. By the time he had found them and had changed, Draco was already sitting on his own bed next to Harry's and watching. His pagamas were dark gray silk, with the Slytherin serpent sewn on the breast pocket in green. Harry looked down at his own, plain scarlet ones, and made a face. Grimacing, Draco pulled out his wand.  
  
"That'll have to go. Virida!" he murmured, and Harry's garments were emerald green. "Much better," the other nodded, and slipped under his covers. Harry followed suit.  
  
"Good night, Harry," Draco mumbled, stifling a yawn.  
  
"Mm. G'night, Draco," he replied sleepily. His eyes closed and, within a minute, he was asleep.  
Author's Note: I watched The Two Towers! YAY! God, I loved it. Especially the scenes between Aragorn and Legolas... Does anyone else here firmly support A/L slash? I love it! ^_____^ ::drools:: Oh, and for X-mas I got a DVD player (it's about time, too) and the FOTR DVD set (extended version, of course)! So, now I can watch Orli and Viggo whenever I like! Isn't life wonderful?  
  
ANYWAY, I'm glad I got this chapter up. Oh, and THANK YOU to Babyshiro and to Diana Lucille Snape for their e-mails... It made me feel warm and fuzzy inside to know that I am loved (well... that my fics are, at any rate!). So, I hope to get the next chapter up soon, but the longer the wait, the longer (hopefully) the chapter! ::sweatdrops:: At least, that's how it SHOULD work... hehe 


	12. Breakfast at Hogwarts'

Author's note: Oh, and thank you to Kyuu (o ever hard-working best friend of mine) for her unrelenting search for the term "Virida," used in the previous chapter. I am forever in your debt. ::grins:: And now... onto the fic! ^_^  
Harry woke up the next morning content. He was back at Hogwarts, he was in a warm bed, and he was surrounded by friends again... he wondered if he and Ron had all the same classes... His eyes snapped open. Green. The hangings above him were green. Slowly he turned his head to the left. Unless Ron had silver-blonde hair and pale skin, that wasn't a Weasley sitting on the next bed.  
  
The previous day's events flooded his mind, and he stared at Draco. He was still in his pajamas, but awake and peering into a mirror than hung before him. No sun came into the windowless room; Harry realized that the walls gave off a soft luminescence. With light from all directions, there were no shadows on the other boy's face, and it appeared almost unreal, a two- dimensional ethereal painting. His thin face didn't seem gaunt, but softer. Hair fell over Draco's forehead as a silvery veil - his eyes were a soft gray. Wait - eyes? Harry jerked his gaze back to the other's, and Draco raised an eyebrow at him before going back to his hair. Harry flushed and wondered why, and continued to watched as the paler boy murmured a spell and ran his wand through his hair, neatly slicking it back one section at a time. When he was satisfied, he tapped the mirror with his wand and it fell onto his bed, no larger than a sickle. Draco picked it up and tossed it carelessly into his open trunk and turned to Harry.  
  
"Good morning, Slytherin," the blonde greeted him. "Get up. We've got to get to breakfast." He slid his legs over the edge of his bed and stretched. Gathering up a bundle of clothes from his trunk, he disappeared into a bathroom that Harry hadn't noticed the night before, its door immediately beside the entrance to the room.  
  
He peered around the room. It was... different. One part of him felt like an intruder, and screamed at him to get out of the Slytherin dorm! They're your enemies; they hate you! The other half of him saw boys that had been friendly to him last night, and a new home. Sighing, Harry, too, got out of bed and rummaged through his clothes for something to wear, trying to drown out the feuding in his mind. He pulled out several of Dudley's huge, old T- shirts, ratty pants, and a sweatshirt that was a stretched-out lump. He grimaced.  
  
"Do the Muggles give you anything?" a voice in his ear startled him, and he turned to find Draco crouched beside him.  
  
His eyes widened. Draco was wearing blue jeans and a black turtleneck, and black sneakers. Harry felt his breath quicken - would Draco think less of him for his clothes? He hadn't thought to shop for new clothes; he didn't even know where to find them, since Madam Malkin's sold only robes. He flushed and tried to hide the garments, but realized that Draco was waiting for an answer to his question.  
  
"What? No. They Dursleys - my aunt, uncle, and pig of a cousin - hate me. They think witches and wizards are terrible, horrid, unnatural things," he said bitterly. "I'm an eyesore there, nothing more than a servant to order around and occasionally beat." He bit his lip. He hadn't meant to say that. "Anyway, I live in my cupboard most of the time - I suppose there's no- where to put any clothes or belongings."  
  
Draco's eyebrows shot up. "Cupboard?" he repeated incredulously.  
  
Harry nodded grimly, and a little embarrassed. "Just recently they let me move into the extra bedroom upstairs, which is half filled with junk, stuff Dudley doesn't want. I still only get Dudley's huge old clothes." He held up a food-stained extra extra extra large T-shirt disgustedly... and dropped it with a yell as it burst into flames.  
  
Putting his wand down, Draco faced Harry. "You can't wear those. Come here." Wonderingly, Harry followed him to his trunk. Draco shoved a pile of clothes into his arms. "Use these for now. They should fit. Now hurry," he scowled, "or we'll be late." He hesitated. "And I'm not lending you clothes because I'm nice or anything," his eyes flashed. "I just can't stand for a Slytherin to look shabby." He leaned in close and whispered, "I have an image to maintain, you know. Just tell anyone who asks that Draco Malfoy - the git - wouldn't let you look like a slob and ruin the Slytherin appearance, okay?" Harry grinned.  
  
When he emerged from the bathroom five minutes later, he was dressed in a pair of Draco's jeans and a dark green long-sleeved shirt. Hastily, the two slipped on their Hogwarts robes and ran to the common room.  
  
Millicent and Pansy waved to them as they hurried through, and Blaise joined them. Harry rather thought that Pansy, who was sporting a large pink bow in her hair and was probably dressed in pink underneath her Hogwarts robes, was eyeing Draco, and glanced at his friend (it still felt a little weird to call him that). Draco smiled at Pansy, but, as he turned away, his eyes flickered to Harry and he grimaced slightly. Harry bit back a laugh. Blaise nudged Harry in the ribs, rolling his eyes, and Harry snorted lightly. As the three quickly made their way out of the common room and through the twisting passages, Harry reflected on where he was and who he was with.  
  
Slytherins. He was walking along the hall, sharing a joke with Blaise Zabini and teasing Draco Malfoy about a girl. When had he stopped hating Draco, exactly? He had treated Harry and his friends - mostly his friends - badly for the past two years, and had even confessed to wanting to help Slytherin's heir kill off Muggle-borns! He frowned internally. He'd have to ask him about that sometime. But, the taunting... Harry considered it. Their roles in Gryffindor and Slytherin had been similar: a sort of leader of their year, loathe as he was to admit it. Seekers for their Quidditch teams. Two friends - Hermione and Ron, Crabbe and Goyle - that were with them almost constantly. It was natural that they would have some sort of interaction, he reasoned. But how had it become negative? The House rivalry? No, he remembered, it had started before that. It had started in Madam Malkin's when Draco had been boasting about his Quidditch skills and his money. But, after all, look at what he had for a father; how else would Lucius Malfoy's son have been taught to act? And then, on the Hogwarts Express, Draco had offered to be friends. But Ron had snickered at his name, and Draco was offended. He lashed back with the first thing that came to mind - Ron's financial state. Harry sighed. Those two would never get along.  
  
His musings were interrupted when Draco nudged him in the side as they approached the doors to the Great Hall. He murmured out of the side of his mouth, "This way, sir," and bent almost imperceptibly at the waist. It took Harry a moment to remember his comment last night about Draco being a gentleman, and he laughed. Draco smirked, and they followed Blaise and another boy - Harry thought his name was Alec - into the Hall. Hesitating, his feet automatically turned towards the Gryffindor table. But Draco's voice stopped him. "Where are you going, Ha- Potter?" he drawled. "You're over here, remember?" Harry winced as Hermione's shoulders tensed, but neither of his best friends looked up. He let himself be drawn to the Slytherin table, and sat down between Draco and Pansy. Pansy pouted at him. Draco gave him a glance, warning him not to let Pansy switch places with him.  
  
Harry was too preoccupied to pay attention to the girl, though, and told Draco quietly, "I know you're keeping your reputation and all, but I'm still going to try to be nice to Ron and Hermione, okay?"  
  
Draco frowned. "But why, Harry? They're treating you like dirt." He sneered over to the Gryffindor table, but they weren't watching him and the effect was lost.  
  
Harry waited for Draco to turn back to him, and met his eyes. "Just because they're being mean," he said softly, "does that mean I shouldn't give them a second chance?" Draco's eyes widened slightly. "And just because I'm in Slytherin, does that give them any reason to dislike me?" He smiled sadly at the blonde, whose cheeks were flushed. Draco lowered his gaze.  
  
"Sorry," he muttered.  
  
Harry picked up his fork. "It's alright. Just, it'd make things a lot easier for me if you didn't pick on Ron and Hermione for a while." He helped himself to the sausages and fried tomatoes, and grinned. "Besides, it'll give you more quality time to spend with Pans- oof!" He smirked as Draco punched him lightly in the stomach, a piece of his carefully adjusted silver blonde hair falling in front of his eyes.  
  
He was just starting on a muffin a minute later when Pansy happened to glance over to the Gryffindor table and sniffed, the bow on her head bouncing. "Harry, it looks like your friends are thinking about coming over for a chat." She gave him a reproachful glance. "Really, they don't belong over here, even if you do."  
  
Harry couldn't tell if he was pleased to be accepted or sorry that there was no miraculous change in the Slytherin/Gryffindor mentality. He looked over to his former House's table and saw what Pansy was referring to. A couple of the surrounding Slytherins followed his gaze.  
  
Fred, George, Alicia, Angelina, Katie, and Oliver Wood were gathered at one end, shooting glances toward the Slytherin table. Ron and Hermione were seated a bit further down, apparently looking at their new schedules. At that moment, he was handed his new schedule by a Slytherin fifth-year. What was her name? Oh yes, Elizabeth. He thanked her and eagerly tore it open.  
  
Transfiguration, Potions, History of Magic... the usual, with the additions of Care of Magical Creatures (which he had that day, with the Gryffindors) and Divination. He noted with some relief that his schedule was almost identical to Draco's. Blaise also the same classes as Harry, only he and Draco had chosen Arithmancy over Divination.  
  
"Divination?" Draco asked, wrinkling his nose. "D'you believe in that stuff?"  
  
"No," he replied, "It just sounded like an easy A..." He trailed off. "What's Arithmancy, anyway?"  
  
"Something involving numbers. My father said I should take it - better than that load of rubbish you'll be stuck with, at any rate."  
  
Harry nodded, looked up at the teachers' table and, glancing at Lupin, wondered aloud, "I wonder what Defense Against the Dark Arts classes will be like this year." He also caught Hagrid's eye, who grinned at him a little uncertainly. Harry was flooded with relief and he smiled back- Hagrid didn't judge him based on his resorting.  
  
"Anything's got to be better than that stuck-up, no-brain, ugly, bragging git we were stuck with last year!" Draco growled. Harry, Blaise, and a couple of the surrounding non-first years laughed and nodded their agreement, remembering the ridiculous Lockhart.  
  
Their laughter died away, however, when Oliver Wood approached the table. Harry was stunned at how quickly the atmosphere had turned hostile, and nervously looked from Draco to Wood. The former's sneer was firmly in place, and Wood glared coldly at all the Slytherins - including Harry. Marcus Flint stood up.  
  
"What do you want, Wood?" he growled.  
  
"We want to know who your Seeker'll be this year: Potter, the one with a bit of talent and loads of luck, or Malfoy, whose father bought his position on the team?"  
  
Harry and Draco flushed angrily, but Flint replied, "We don't have to anwer that. It's perfectly legal to keep our secrets, Wood."  
  
"Since when do Slytherins care about what's legal?"  
  
Flint ignored him. "Who's your Seeker going to be?" asked Flint shrewdly.  
  
Wood stiffened. "If you must know, Ronald Weasley." Harry gasped. "We're going to beat you, Slytherin."  
  
"Go away, Gryffindor," spat Flint. The Slytherin table watched as Wood made his way back to his table and sat heavily on the bench. Harry caught George's eye, who shrugged back apologetically. Fred nodded over his twin's shoulder. Harry didn't look at Ron.  
  
Flint turned to Draco and Harry. "Well?" he asked, irritated. "Which one will it be?"  
  
Harry was speechless. Draco looked irritated, but his eyes reflected that he was torn.  
  
"Harry, you're a better Seeker, even if I have a better broom. But my father would kill me if I drop Quidditch. I don't know..."  
  
Harry objected. "It's not fair that I should barge into Slytherin and take anyone's spot on the team. Of course you'll be the Seeker."  
  
Flint shook his head. "Stop being noble. Harry, you're a good player. You'd help our chances of winning any day. Draco, you're good at Quidditch in general, but that's from years of practice, while Harry's a natural for the Seeker position," he explained. Flint appeared to be doing some fast thinking. Harry was surprised; from what Wood had told him, Fli- er - Marcus was a moron. "Draco, how would your father feel about you being moved to another position? Beater or Chaser? You need his approval, and his financial aid is what keeps this team in top shape." Marcus grimaced.  
  
Draco smirked. "And he knows it, too, the schemer." He looked rather proud. "But... yes. I think that would work." He turned to Harry, though, and concern flickered in his eyes. "Will you be okay? Against Weasley, I mean."  
  
"Yeah, I'll be fine. Besides, I already know his flying style," Harry answered casually. He knew that wasn't what Draco meant, but the message was clear: ask me later. He glanced back at the schedule that he still held. "Are you done eating?" he changed the subject.  
  
"Yeah, why?"  
  
Harry indicated the parchment. "We've got Transfiguration in fifteen minutes."  
  
Draco made a face. "McGonagall. Ugh. Alright, let's go," he sighed. "Blaise?"  
  
The dark boy shook his head, his mouth still full of a muffin. He mumbled something that Harry interpreted to be "I'll meet you there," although it sounded more like "Ul ee jew der."  
  
Nodding, Harry and Draco set off for McGonagall's classroom.  
  
Note from the author: Yes, I'm terribly sorry I haven't posted. I'm still rather stuck... trying to plan it out, you know? ::sweatdrop:: Maybe I'll just write more and see how it progresses, ne? ^_^ Reviews have been read, and they've inspired me to write again! HOPEFULLY the next chapter will be up this week. Hopefully. ^_~ E-mails are always welcome! And, I know fanfiction.net is a bit tempermental... if you can't see any of the chapters, feel free to e-mail me, and I'll send it/them to you separately. 


	13. Transfiguration and an Omen

Author's Note: FINALLY! I'm surprised I haven't gotten any flames yet... ^_^() Well, here it is. I'm on Spring Break, and figured that I couldn't make any excuses when I had a whole week off. Forgive me if it's not up to my usual standard - I need to get the feel of the story back again, and some inspiration... *sighs dramatically* Ah, well. I'll shut up and let you read, shall I? ^_^ Enjoy (hopefully)!!!  
  
Kyuu: I KNOW I was supposed to send it to you to Beta... and I still will! Check your inbox. But I HAD to get it up. So... correct it or whatever and I'll repost it here, ne? ^_~  
  
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As they walked along the stone corridor towards the Transfiguration classroom, Harry and Draco's conversation turned once again to the upcoming Quidditch season.  
  
"Draco, it's your position, you're the seeker, I can't ta-" Harry was protesting.  
  
"Shut up, Harry," Draco interrupted. "Don't expect me to say this again. You're better at Quidditch than me." He sniffed. "I'm quite good, but, like Marcus said, you're a natural Seeker. Besides, I've practiced all the positions - you're probably worse than Longbottom at being Keeper." He smirked, and Harry laughed.  
  
"What'll you be, then?" he asked, changing the focus away from himself.  
  
Draco shrugged. "Marcus'll probably kick off the worst player and I'll take their place. It's up to him... but Beater would be excellent," his eyes gleamed.  
  
Harry laughed nervously, "As long as I'm on your team I'll be safe, right?" He shuddered at the thought of being the target of Draco Malfoy with a heavy club. The blonde smirked.  
  
Their conversation came to a halt as they filed into McGonagall's class. As hardly anyone else was there, Harry and Draco had their pick of seats. To Harry's surprise, his friend - it still felt odd to say that; he wondered when he'd get over it - chose two in the front row immediately in front of the professor's desk.  
  
"Potter, what are you -" she began as she looked up, frowning, from a parchment on her desk. She stopped short. "Ah... Of course, you're in Slytherin now. My apologies." Stiffly she returned to her reading. Harry looked at his desk, sighing quietly. It was the first time he'd had a chance to see her face-to-face since his resorting. His ex-Head of House would surely be upset with him. Not only had her rival, Professor Snape, gained the famous Boy-Who-Lived for his House, the Slytherin Quidditch team was now almost certain to kick Gryffindor arse. He sighed again and slid lower into his seat. Draco 's foot nudged his ankle and he flashed Harry a look of understanding. Harry almost smiled. It was such a sudden reversal, to have Draco Malfoy on his side. He wondered, not for the first time, what would have happened if he'd been sorted into Slytherin at the very beginning.  
  
"Hello, Draco, Harry," a quiet voice came from the other side of the blonde, interrupting his thoughts. Blaise had slipped in unnoticed and claimed the third seat in the front row, his Transfiguration book neatly centered on the desk in front of him.  
  
"Hullo, Blaise," Harry answered.  
  
"Mm," was all that came from Draco, who was apparently too absorbed in something he was writing on the parchment in front of him to answer.  
  
The ex-Gryffindor looked around. Other Slytherins had begun to fill the room. Crabbe and Goyle had taken up their obligatory positions behind Draco - and, consequentially, Harry. Pansy, who had just entered, pouted at the seating arrangements and flounced to the seat behind Blaise, as close to her crush as she could get. Harry hid a grin and glanced at Draco, whose face had just barely twisted into what Harry recognized as a grimace.  
  
Suddenly, he realized that, after two years of glaring at each other across every class they shared - and meals in the Great Hall - he had become skilled at reading the other's guarded expressions. He scrutinized the other's face more closely. Draco's eyes were squinted the tiniest bit, showing that he was thinking hard about what he was writing. His lips parted slightly, showing his focus and obliviousness to the world around him. Harry let his gaze sweep down to the other's hand. Pale, slender fingers held the quill near the base tightly. This surprised Harry. Whatever the young Malfoy was writing, it was personal. Otherwise he would be flourishing his quill and writing in long, flowing script so that others could admire him. Harry chuckled to himself. Admire him, yes, he heard himself think. Even now Pansy's watching him, the voice said, but he doesn't care. He ignores all the girls, really, it whispered, surprising Harry. It was true. Draco strove to be admired, but he was like an art piece on display. 'Look, please do not touch,' the sign said. Well, his mouth tugged into an amused smile, maybe not 'please.'  
  
Then, brought out of his own world, Harry sat up straighter in his chair as McGonagall stood, her stern gaze following the last stragglers as they found their seats. She had seemed formidable to him as a Gryffindor, but he'd never gotten the chance to see her teach a class of Slytherins. Her lips had thinned even more than usual, and she stood so stiffly that he thought that maybe someone had cast a body-binding spell on her.  
  
When the students were still, she began. "Welcome, Slytherins." She looked down her nose around the class and sniffed, sounding anything but welcoming. "Today, class, we will begin studying Animagi. First of all, can anyone tell us what an Animagus is?" Beside Harry, Draco raised his hand lazily. Harry glanced over his shoulder. None of the others knew, apparently.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy?" Professor McGonagall spoke crisply.  
  
Draco leaned back in his seat and regarded her with half-closed eyes. "It's a witch or wizard who has learned to change him or herself into the form of a specific animal at will," he drawled. "...Professor," he added as an afterthought.  
  
The witch's lips thinned further as she looked at the third-year with barely concealed dislike. "That would be correct, Mr. Malfoy." Suddenly, before their eyes, she disappeared. A moment later, a tabby cat with spectacle markings around its eyes jumped up onto the desk and sat. It, too, sat so stiffly that there was no mistaking who this was.  
  
After a moment of stunned silence, the class broke into applause; Gryffindor Head of House or not, that had been- 'bloody brilliant!' Harry could suddenly hear Ron's voice saying. He shook his head to clear the unwanted thought of said Gryffindor and joined in the clapping. Only Draco sat, unmoved. Instead, the blonde was carefully continuing to write on the parchment in front of him. In green ink, Harry noticed, though he couldn't read what it said - the other's arm was casually blocking it from view. Mentally shrugging, he turned his attention back to the front of the class just in time to see the feline-McGonagall jump off the desk as she changed forms, coming to stand in front of their desks. Scattered applause was hurriedly shushed as students saw the expression on her face.  
  
"Mister Malfoy," she snapped. "Would you mind telling me what is so important that you must be writing it in the middle of my class?" She held out her hand for the parchment.  
  
Draco blinked, looked up slowly, and leaned back, calmly handing her the piece of parchment, which she took with a suspicious glance. She read it in silence and, to everyone's surprise, handed it back grudgingly. Draco smiled serenely up at her. Harry muffled a snort, earning himself a sharp glance from the professor.  
  
Without a word, Professor McGonagall turned and retreated behind her desk. She seated herself and glanced at the class. "If you would please turn to page twenty-seven in your texts, you will find the chapter on Animagi. Read it, and write a paragraph summary, adding your own speculation at the end on what the uses of being able to change shape might be." With that, she went back to her reading.  
  
There was the rustle of bookbags being opened and books being set rather heavily on desks, and a quiet murmur as students whispered to their deskmates. As Harry and Draco took out their books, the former leaned over to glance at the other's desk.  
  
"What was on it?" he asked, curious.  
  
Draco looked up. "Oh, this? Here," he tossed the parchment carelessly in front of Harry.  
  
" An Animagus is a witch or wizard who has learned to change him or herself into the form of a specific animal at will. Minerva McGonagall is a registered Animagus - tabby cat with spectacle markings around the eyes. Very beautiful coat, orange and brown with white underside; elegant posture," he read aloud, trying not to laugh. "You knew she was going to read it, then?"  
  
Draco arched an eyebrow. "I was being sincere," he sniffed.  
  
Harry saw the glimmer in the other's gaze that he knew to be silent laughter and rolled his eyes. "Sure you were." He moved to hand the parchment back, but his hand stopped in midair. The notes were written in blue ink. He ran his finger lightly across the last word. It was dry. Slowly he handed it back.  
  
Draco gave him a level look. "...yes?"  
  
Harry shook his head, "Nothing." He gave his deskmate a questioning glance.  
  
The blonde understood. Light pink lips twitched, and Draco Malfoy winked at him, moving his left hand from under the desk, revealing the parchment with emerald lettering on it in his grasp. With a quick glance up at McGonagall, he slipped it into his bookbag between his Arithmancy book and some spare parchment, careful not to smear the wet ink. Swiftly he exchanged his green quill for a blue one, and lay it on the desk beside him.  
  
Harry grinned, sharing the joke, but was somewhat bewildered. How had Draco exchanged the parchments without anyone noticing? And how had he already had notes prepared to show McGonagall?  
  
The blonde spoke, then, interrupting Harry's thoughts. "Well, Potter, what are you waiting for? Get to work - we don't want you to lose any points, now, do we?" he drawled just loud enough for McGonagall to hear. Harry looked quickly towards the professor, who was watching him with raised eyebrows. He flushed and quickly opened his book to page twenty-seven.  
  
He was seeing a pattern in Draco's behavior. Whenever non-Slytherins were involved, he was the snotty Malfoy that everyone knew and lov... well, that everyone knew, he amended to himself with a grin. But with his own Housemates, Draco was a fun, strong leader. And, Harry knew, a great friend. It suddenly struck him how similar Ron was. To Gryffindors, he was a wonderful person and another one of those fun Weasleys. But he was always mean to Slytherins. Had he been like that, Harry wondered?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
After Transfiguration, Harry parted ways with Draco and Blaise, heading up to the very top of the North Tower. As he made his way through the halls, he realized that people were looking at him. Carefully keeping his gaze on the stones in front of his feet, he guessed that people had been staring at him all day, only he hadn't noticed while he was talking to his new Housemates.  
  
Trying to ignore the attention, he chose to study his surroundings. There always seemed to be new decorations in Hogwarts. The paintings nodded to him as he passed, but they, too, looked at him strangely. The Fat Lady had told some of her friends, he supposed. Suddenly, though, he was face to face with a ghost. He fell backwards with a yell and landed hard on his back.  
  
"So sorry, dear fellow, I didn't see you," Sir Nicholas apologized, automatically offering him a hand up. Harry reached for it and fell painfully back again as his hand passed through the ghost's. Not noticing, the Gryffindor ghost continued. "I was just talking to the Friar - that's why I wasn't watching where I was floating, you see - and he told me the strangest news. There's been a re-sorting, and young Har-" he stopped, realizing who it was he was speaking to. "Well," he said, somewhat embarrassed, "of course you know. Harry Potter in Slytherin! Imagine. Why ever did you change Houses, Harry?" he asked, puzzled and somewhat put out.  
  
Harry sighed and scrambled to his feet. "The Sorting Hat wanted me in Slytherin, and it kept giving me a hard time. I really don't have time to talk, though, Nick. Where's the North Tower? I'm probably going to be late for Divination," he changed the topic hastily.  
  
"The Sorting Hat wanted to put you in Slytherin?" the ghost repeated, surprised. "Well, I suppose it knows best, then, but a nice boy like you?" he shook his head, making it flop sickeningly as he did. "I don't understand it. Oh well. Perhaps you'll still talk to me, though?" the ghost asked hopefully. "And maybe come to my Death-day party again..."  
  
"Yes, of course!" he said exasperatedly. "But can you help me first?"  
  
"Right, sorry," the ghost apologized. "Really, I'm so easily distracted. That's why I ran into you, of course. Are you alright? Yes, well... just keep going straight, Harry, take a left - it IS the first day of school? Yes, I think that corridor will be there - and the first staircase you come to will lead you straight to the North Tower. Cheerio!" And with that the Gryffindor ghost drifted down through the landing.  
  
Harry sighed and shook his head, continuing more quickly down the hall. As he continued on his way, he was greeted with a few nods and even a wave from one of the Slytherin first years - her name was Rebecca, he remembered as he smiled back at her.  
  
He kept his face expressionless, though, as a wake of whispers spread out behind him as he passed through a group of Ravenclaw third years. He didn't look to see if he knew any of them.  
  
Finally, though, he had to look up as he came to the end of the corridor that Sir Nicholas had directed him to. The only problem was that it split into two staircases at the end. He had three minutes left to get to the classroom, but he had no idea which way to go from here.  
  
All at once, though, he heard familiar voices coming from the stairway on the left.  
  
"-going to die!" came Ron's hiss.  
  
"Don't be silly, Ron. Divination seems like a lot of guesswork to me, and-" Hermione's matter-of-fact voice was answering.  
  
"But what about Neville's cup? You saw it, I know you did!" Harry thought Ron sounded near hysterics as he interrupted Hermione. What had happened in Divination? he wondered with some concern.  
  
"Ron, just-" Hermione stopped abruptly as she came to the bottom of the stairs and saw Harry standing there. This was a mistake; Ron was following behind her too quickly and ran into the back of her. Harry leapt forward, but was too late. He winced as the two Gryffindors crashed onto the floor.  
  
After a momentary silence, he bent and began to gather Hermione's spilled books as Ron scrambled to get off of her, reddening. Harry glanced up. Ron was muttering an apology, and Hermione seemed to be tucking something hurriedly down the front of her robes, a brief look of relief crossing her face. He picked up the heaviest book - Arithmancy, he saw - and set it on top of her other three and slid it towards her, then reached for the scattered quills.  
  
"Thanks, Harry, I -" she stopped, biting her lip. "Thanks."  
  
"No problem," he said easily, holding her quills out. After she had taken them, he leaned back on his heels and looked up at his former Housemates. "Er-" he began, but Ron cut him off.  
  
"Come on, Hermione. We need to hurry or we'll be late for McGonagall's class."  
  
"Yes, Ron, I know. Harry, where are you-" she began to ask.  
  
"Hermione! Don't talk to Slytherins. Come on." He picked up her bag and began to walk away. He stopped and turned at the bottom of the stairs that Harry had just come up, tapping his foot impatiently, careful not to look at Harry.  
  
Harry's insides had gone as cold as Ron's tone. His earlier thoughts echoed in his mind: To Gryffindors, he was a wonderful person and another one of those fun Weasleys. But he was always mean to Slytherins. So, now Harry was just another Slytherin. It hurt. It hurt a lot, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the look of horror on Ron's face when the resorting was done, the glare across the Great Hall, the sound of contempt and anger in his voice as he cut Hermione off. Hermione. His eyes flew open. She was still on the floor, gathering the last of her parchments.  
  
Harry stood and offered her a hand which, after almost imperceptible hesitation, she took. He pulled her up and let go of her hand.  
  
"Thanks," she repeated. He shrugged. "...look, Harry, I-"  
  
"Hermione!" Ron snapped, "we've got two minutes."  
  
"I don't want to be late, Harry, but I wanted to say I'm not mad," she rushed, backing towards the steps. "I mean, it's a shock and all, but... we can still be friends, right?" She looked at him, for once unsure of herself.  
  
A wave of warmth rushed back through Harry. "Yeah. We can still be friends," he smiled at her gratefully.  
  
She smiled, too. "Good." She turned and began to descend the stairs.  
  
Harry called after her, "Hermione?" She turned quickly. "This is the way up to the Divination classroom?" he asked, indicating the left stairwell.  
  
A frown crossed her face. "Yes, it is. But the whole thing is very woolly, if you ask me."  
  
"Why, what'd the professor say?" he called, moving towards the staircase.  
  
Her tone was scornful. "She said she saw a death omen in some soggy leaves," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry, I'm going to be late..."  
  
His eyes widened. "What? For whom?" he asked, memories of Mr. Weasley's warning rushing back to him all at once.  
  
Hermione hesitated and her eyes flickered toward the only other person in sight, "...Ron." She turned and ran down the steps, one minute left before they all had to be in their next class. Harry, however, was frozen to the spot.  
  
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Author's Note: Yay! Another chapter finished... I'm not that happy with it, but it's better than nothing, right? The next'll be better, I hope... ^_^ I had just assumed that Trelawney would See the Omen (*snort*) in her second class period, but... doesn't this make it more interesting?? *grins* Right, so... I'll try to write more. I'm home from school today because I sprained my ankle ice-skating over the weekend... So I sat down and wrote! Besides, now I actually have some cool new stuff to work with instead of just paraphrasing JK's excellent work! ^_^() Funtimes. Sooooooooooo... what to look forward to in the next chapter? Harry's first Divination lesson and the Gryffindor/Slytherin Care of Magical Creatures class! And more Draco, I promise. He hardly had any part in this! *sigh* But he'll be in the next one more, I promise! ^_~ See ya there!  
  
P.S. Microsoft Word automatically changes three periods to an elipse "." which is automatically changed by FF.net to a regular period. So... if you see something like that, you know what it is, alright? I'm testing something in this chapter and using FIVE periods. Hopefully this'll solve the problem... If not, bear with me, okay? ^_^() 


	14. Reviewer Thanks!

Note: This is going to be a "chapter" that's just replying to all the reviews I've gotten for Chapter 10 and beyond (that's not too many, right?) in the order in which they were received. ^_^ So, if you want the next chapter, just skip this, okay? ^_~  
  
Bluebird161221: Yes, mid-terms do suck. How did yours go? Well, I hope. Here's some more of the fic! Still enjoying it?  
  
GLAY: Love the name! I love that J-pop group... especially their song "Beloved." I'm soooo glad you like my story! I'm flattered. #^_^#  
  
Lain: Thanks! I'm glad you like it.  
  
BabyPufoo: I agree; Draco will be MUCH better for Harry than Ron. ^_~ I don't like Ron much sometimes, do you? I mean, he's find in the cannon stories..... usually..... *shrug*  
  
~Mary~: I'm relieved you like my portrayal of Draco! I was unsure how he'd be received. And yes, Harry DID get Snape a present! Thanks for reminding me... *massive sweatdrop* I went back and re-read my entire fic, making small changes and noting to myself what I needed to re-visit. Thanks for being so observant!!!  
  
AmZ: I can't have Hermione completely abandon him; she's too intelligent for that. Ron, however, turned against him even in JK's story (CoS), so I don't have much faith in him. ^_^() Ron/Harry pairings are so unreal to me... There IS, however, a thin line between love and hate... He and Draco DO know each other intimately in the books, only they focus on the weaknesses and negative aspects. I hope that changes... ^_^  
  
Absinthe Sythe: Yes, I agree. Snape is one Very. Sexy. Postions. Master. *smirk* And thanks! This is my first Harry Potter fic; I'm so glad it seems to be popular! I'm also a convert to D/H... Although H/S is still my second favorite. Have you read Midnight Blue's "The Mirror of Maybe"?? Although unfinished, it's the best fic on fanfiction.net that I've read so far... and it's H/S!!! *grins* A must-read.  
  
HELLO (?): I'm continuing, see? I'm glad you like the 'new' Draco! ^_^  
  
Tidmag: See? Hermione's not that bad. She's just rather... hesitant about defending Malfoy and anything associated with him, especially with Ron hating him so vehemently. Yep; Gred and Forge are great. Ginny? She won't play a huge role, I don't think. I don't like her much (although Bonnie did a great job in the movie!). Harry won't change... but he might discover a different side of himself that was just buried! ^_^  
  
Diana Lucille Snape: Yay! You came back! *huggles* I agree about Draco and Harry taking it slowly. It'll be hard to restrain myself, though... ^_~ So much yumminess... *sighs dreamily* And yes, see? Harry's a Seeker. I'm pretty sure Draco'll end up a Beater (o_O Oh the possibilities... *SNORT*). It'll be so much fun, and suit him so well! (*still smirking like mad*) I'm so glad you like it; review on the updates! And yes, I'm playing with the idea of Goyle and Crabbe actually having personalities...  
  
Grey Malfoy: Thanks! Ah, yes, the effects of caffine... *g*  
  
Nyx N. Malfoy, Neko Megami: Yep, June 21, right? I can't wait! ^_^ I'm glad you like my story so much! It's really the reviewers that keep me going... I'd forgotten about it, to tell the truth, until some concerned readers e- mailed me! ^_^ And, yeah... My straight A's are hanging in balance; I'm surprised I can even keep a B in math right now. I feel so stupid! I've never gotten lower than a high A before this year... *cries in a corner* ... *sniffles*  
  
HP-Lover420: ... I'm really not sure at this point how far this will go. I suppose I'll just keep writing them when I have time, since I've not got a specific goal or ending point. Maybe I'll even carry this through the seventh book timeline... or after! But I doubt it. I have a reputation for being very very lazy. _ But I'll try, because I love writing and I LOVE getting feedback (as long as it's kindly phrased).  
  
Tima: I think you've reviewed three times! Thanks! See? I'm updating! Finally! ^_^  
  
Spirit Stone's Insanity: I'm hurrying hurrying hurrying hurrying hurrying hurrying hurrying! ^_^ Kinda.  
  
Nightwing: Yes, I don't fancy the idea of being sued for using JK's incredible writing. _ She's a genius, really, but even I update faster than her... *sweatdrops a the sudden silence* ...alright, so she writes a book and I write a chapter or two. SO???? *inches away slowly*  
  
Babyshiro: Thanks for e-mailing! It meant a lot and got me back on track! ^_^ I don't know if Blaise, Draco, and Harry will become a new Trio. But I'm going to have something weird with Blaise... he'll be an interesting character; almost an OC, really, because JK has developed him so little. If he plays a big role in OotP, I guess I'm screwed, huh? ^_~ YES! Thank you! I didn't realize it, but Minoru is almost EXACTLY what I'm going for. Just... with a bit more of a twisted sense of humor. ^_^ Chobits is awesome! Yeah... Ron as Seeker should be interesting. And... it's cool that you don't hate Pansy or Flint as much! I mean, I don't love either of them, but reading ANY story with a really annoying character gets tedious. I don't know if I'll even be able to re-read CoS very often; Lockhart's just sooooo infuriating! ARGH! ...as you can see, I really hate him.  
  
Kyuuketsuki: *GLOMP* You need to review more! ^_^ I'm glad it's not /that/ bad. ¬_¬ ...heh So... when ya gonna put up a fic of your own, huh? *poke poke* Anyway... broom/stick/. Heh. Right, so, see you at school, etc... Love ya! ^_~ HEY EVERYONE! THIS IS THE WONDERFUL PERSON WHO CONVERTED ME TO DRACO/HARRY! ^_^  
  
Hippy Flower: Your favorite?? *sqeals* Thank you so much!!!! ~~~ Feels special  
  
Cheryl: Thanks! I will. Yay! Another A/L slash lover! Good taste, girl!  
  
[Note: Have ANY guys reviewed??? O_O *sigh* I suppose they're not huge shounen-ai fans, usually... except for these two guys I know... Eh, oh well. Their loss! ^_^]  
  
ER: Well, they'll be acting like "good friends" for a long time; there won't be any slash for a loooooooooooooooooooooong time. ^_^ *sigh* Unfortunately. But, I can't promise there won't be any "kissing or any very gross stuff like that," because I love stuff like that. However, I WILL put a warning at the beginning of any chapter that has any of that "gross stuff" in it. *amused* Don't worry; I'm glad you like my story, and I hope you'll continue to read it for now! ^_^  
  
Desertwren: Thank you so much! Here ya go: more chapters! Yay! Do the happy dance with me! ^_^() () () And yes, it'll be cool to figure out how it affects the Quidditch matches.  
  
Aishiteru Tenshi: LOL I did the same thing when I saw it... Legolas comes on the screen. Me: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEee! Aragorn comes on the screen. Me: AAAAAAAAhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... BOTH at once: Me: OMG! So... hot... EEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!! ^_^ ~~~~ very happy Maris  
  
Fang gurlie: Thanks! I appreciate it. It's a miracle it IS so light, actually, as I love angst so much. Don't think this story'll be THAT angsty, though. ^_^  
  
Sunnibunni13: Lemme guess... Tiffany? ^_~ Well, we can hope that you'll grow to like A/L... Oh well; your loss. ^_^ As long as I don't have to read anything about Aragorn/Arwen... Ugh. ¬_¬  
  
Jaded Green: Here ya go! Next chappie... coming up! ^_^  
  
Leena-and-Earlie: Yay! More people love my story! Thanks so much for reviewing; here's the next chapter!  
  
Hannah: Yay! You read it all in one evening? Coolness! I'm so glad you like it! I'll keep writing. I promise! ^_^()  
  
Chibi: I agree on both acounts: Yes, Draco and Harry look cute together, and Yes, Ron is a moron. ^_^()  
  
Mellem: See? Chapter 13's up! Aren't you proud of me?  
  
KawaiiKowaiKoneko: Yup! She does. Ron doesn't, though... lol  
  
Laurenyelle the Silver: Of COURSE I don't mind being put on someone's favorite list! o_O ~~~~~ is very flattered  
  
Jedigal: Howdy yourself! Here ya go: more chapters! Yay! ^_^  
  
Dracoqueen456: ...your name is giving me interesting fanfic ideas. ^_^() lol Thanks for reviewing! I'm so glad you like it.  
  
Amo55: Yay! It makes me so happy when a review includes the word "best" or "favorite" in it... ^___^ Thank you!!!  
  
DUK: Wow, thank you! I feel really good now... ^____^() Thank you so much, and I hope you continue to like what I read!  
  
Skull Bearer: Yep! I can't wait for it to come out!!! Thanks so much; I can't believe this is actually on some peoples' favorites list. ^_^;  
  
Tyger-lily-pendragon: Well... She won't be as sweet as a chocolate cake (mmm... chocolate... ^_^), but she won't be mean, exactly, either. She'll get used to it over time, I think.  
  
Apostrophe: Thanks! Actually, I'd never read a fic with Harry in Slytherin before I started this; afterwords, I became worried that this was too common a story line. However, I'm glad it seems to have retained some of its originality! ^_^  
  
Frizzy: Okay!  
  
Runespoor: Heh. I'd think that I'm very lazy and would love to add another chapter... later. _ I'm glad you're greatly enjoying the story, though!! ^_^  
  
Sk8treagle: I'm glad you found something you like! I hope you continue to continue reading; I'll try to continue writing!!! ^^;  
  
Npetrenko: More, coming up! ^_~  
  
Floramorada: Yay! I love it most of all when someone thinks my story is original; anyone can write a "better version" of a typical story line. Thank you!!! ^____^  
  
Skysong: Thanks! I rather liked writing Ron's reaction myself. ^_^  
  
Jatewtch: ^_^ I'll try to keep the updates coming!  
  
Scrat: Wow! Clapping? *bows, feeling honored* Of COURSE the Slytherins don't become perfect! ^_^ Nobody is. Except maybe the God that is Draco Malfoy. o_O In my humble opinion. ^_~  
  
Serapotter: I'll try! Enjoy!  
  
Yami Fire Angel: Yay! Okay, I'll try to update more often... I like your name; it reminds me of Yu-Gi-Oh! ^_____^ Yami Yugi... *drool*  
  
RaistlinofMetallica: Yeah, it takes me a while, doesn't it? _ Well, glad you like it! ^_^  
  
Caelestis: I'm trying! Another update... must... type... more quickly...  
  
Xikum: Heh... looking quite ahead, aren't you! ^_~ That's great! You're giving me ideas... heh. ^_^ I'm so glad you like it!  
  
Kimmy: ^_^ You'll just have to wait and see, won't you? Lol Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you continue to enjoy my story!  
  
Phew... All those reviews... and those were only from 10 and up! O_O Wow! I feel so loved... ^_^ Well, onto the next chapter, ne? And please keep reviewing! Even if I haven't enough time to reply to each and every single one, it's still great to get them and read them and feel all warm and fuzzy inside! Yay! *huggles her reviewers* And now... Chapter 15! (I'm calling this Chapter 14, just to keep my numbers and documents straight on my harddrive, okay? So, technically, the story HAS no Chapter 14... but that's okay, right? ^_^) 


	15. Divination Lessons

Author's Note: See? See? I updated quickly! For once... ^_^() Oh, and I changed the settings on my word processor... HOPEFULLY these ellipses will show up correctly now without me having to add two extras! ^_^ Well, I'll let you read, shall I? Please review! I love reviews...  
  
"...Ron," was Hermione's reply as she hurried away. Harry was frozen to the spot.  
  
Ron? Why Ron? How could he die? Was someone after him? The thoughts raced through Harry's mind in a panic. When would it happen? What would it be? Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Hermione had already said that she thought the class was a load of rubbish. He'd trusted her opinion before, right? Opening his eyes, he decided that he'd just have to see for himself what the professor was like. With that, he turned and ran up the steps as fast as he could.  
  
Breathless, he finally arrived at the top of the tower to find a silver ladder leading up to a circular opening in the ceiling. After taking a moment to catch his breath he climbed the ladder.  
  
As his head came above the floor level of the classroom, he immediately felt like he was entering an old attic. He stopped and twisted head all around, taking in the odd room. Twenty small, circular tables had somehow been fit into the small space, and, instead of the chairs in the rest of his classrooms, overstuffed armchairs and differently colored poufs surrounded them. All the windows were blocked by heavy curtains hung with beads; the crimson light emitting from many lamps draped with dark red scarves was enough to cast fantastic shadows on the walls but probably, he frowned, not enough to read a textbook by. He was his by a wave of heat as he came further into the room and he noticed a fire burning silently in the fireplace. He wasn't sure if it was the fire or the contents of the copper kettle on top that gave off the scent of heavy perfume, but he had to suppress his immediate urge to gag. The last thing he observed was that the walls were covered with shelves that ran all the way around and were crammed with an odd assortment of Divination items. Old feathers, crystal balls, cards - tarot or playing, he couldn't tell which - stacked haphazardly, candles, and what he figured was probably the largest collection of antique teacups in England loomed around him. It was very crowded.  
  
"Welcome, Harry Potter. How nice to see you in the physical world at last."  
  
He jumped and had to grab onto the sides of the floor to catch himself from falling. He looked to the left, where the soft, misty voice had come from, and almost yelled. A large, glittery insect was sitting in a chair in front of the fire and sipping tea from a pink china teacup. It stood up and approached him. He breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
Professor Trelawney wore large spectacles that made her eyes appear several times larger than they actually were. The shawl around her shoulders was gauzy and glittered in the firelight adding to his initial impression of a shiny bug. She was very thin and pale, and looked to be wearing about five pounds of necklaces and chains. When she moved she jingled; her lower arms and hands were gloved in bangles and rings of different sizes and materials.  
  
"Professor Trelawney, I'm sorry I'm late, I-" he began.  
  
"I know, my dear! You got lost on the way here. There was also a bit of commotion in the halls, wasn't there? It's alright, my child, sit, sit!" she waved vaguely to an armchair across from the one she had been seated in.  
  
Harry glanced around. There were no other students in the room. Nervously, he seated himself. Letting his feet hang several inches above the ground, he suddenly felt as he had briefly last year in Dumbledore's office: a small specimen to study and test. He swallowed and met Trelawney's gaze.  
  
"My name, as you seem to know, is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye." He said nothing. "So you have chosen to study Divination," she continued, "the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field..." Harry thought it sounded like she had rehearsed this. The way she spoke to the entire room and not directly to him heightened his suspicions that this was a welcoming speech for an entire class. He considered applauding her monologue, but she had not yet finished. "Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future. It is a Gift granted to few."  
  
She switched her focus abruptly to Harry, and he felt very, very alone. Was this how Draco felt when McGonagall had spoken to him directly? Probably not, the other seemed used to it. Harry leaned back casually and drummed his fingers on the armrests. He didn't know what to say, and decided to wait until she addressed him directly. The silence stretched out.  
  
Finally, she spoke. "My dear, boy, you must have noticed that you are the only student this period. Have you not wondered why?"  
  
He blinked. The combination of the perfumed air and the stifling heat in the room had very nearly put him to sleep. He shook his head to clear it and realized that she had asked him a question. "What? Er- yes. Why?"  
  
This was apparently the answer she had been waiting for. She leaned forward and whispered to him, "Because you are the only Slytherin taking this class." She resettled herself in her chair after this pronouncement. He looked at her, waiting for more. She continued, "Your classmates' parents fear me. They do not wish me to uncover secrets about their deeds. They will not allow their children to learn my art... because they fear that my Inner Eye will be able to spy on them." Her unblinking eyes bore into Harry's. "You, however, having no parents, can take whatever classes you wish." That hurt. He looked away, fists clenched. "And," she added, "being a Gryffindor at heart, I am sure, you have no evil to hide from me..."  
  
He spoke angrily. "What do you mean, evil? Slytherins aren't evil! They're - we're - just more private than other Houses! We-" he stopped abruptly. He couldn't really tell her about his new House, as he'd only been there a day. "Besides, the Sorting Hat said I belong there," he scowled. He'd expected grief from the teachers who knew him, but one that had never known him as a Gryffindor? Unless she'd been watching him in her crystal ball, he rolled his eyes mentally.  
  
She frowned. "My dear boy, your stubbornness itself is a mark of Gryffindor. I have watched you; you seemed perfectly happy in your House. Why did you change? Was it a fight with your friend, Ronald Weasley?" She closed her eyes as if in pain. "The poor boy... You will not know, but-"  
  
Harry cut her off. "You think he's going to die."  
  
She nodded, her forehead coming to rest lightly on her jeweled fingers. "I'm sorry, this must be terrible news for you."  
  
He didn't answer. He didn't like Professor Trelawney, he could tell this already. She seemed to hold Slytherins in contempt, and her 'Inner Eye' seemed to need glasses. And yet... Ron had seemed convinced. Last year, when they had chosen the class together, Ron had scoffed at Parvati Patil's unwavering belief in Divination. "An easy A," he'd explained to Harry his reason for signing up. So how did she manage to make Ron think he might die? a voice nagged him. He shoved the thought to the back of his mind. Ron wouldn't die.  
  
After a dramatic sigh, she seemed to have recovered from her momentary distress over the impending tragedy of Ron's death. She sighed again and readjusted her shawl, jingling softly. "Dear, would you get two cups please? Set them right here, on the table... thank you..."  
  
Harry reluctantly got up and retrieved the indicated teacups from a nearby shelf. Trelawney had taken the kettle off of the fire by the time he sat down again. She poured hot water over tea leaves in their cups and replaced the kettle. "Now, dear, drink! Drink until only the dregs are left. Swirl these around the cup three times with your left hand."  
  
He looked at his cup. The teacup he'd chosen was green and had a chip in the side of the rim. Carefully he picked it up and sipped it, wincing as he burned his tongue. Blowing on it, he tried again. After he'd finished the tea, he half-heartedly pushed the dregs around in a circle three times with his left hand. He looked up at his professor, who was watching him carefully.  
  
"Turn it upside down and drain it, now, my dear!" she exclaimed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Then pass it to me." He turned his cup over as told and leaned back, watching the remaining liquid begin to pool in the saucer.  
  
Professor Trelawney had done the same with hers, and she turned her scrutiny once more onto Harry. "This first term will be devoted to the reading of tea leaves," she told him, the firelight flashing off of her glasses. "We will progress to palmistry, fire omens, and crystal ball reading. Unfortunately, February will bring a nasty bout of the flu for many of us, and I will lose my voice." Harry's eyes widened. She could tell all that? She smiled at him sadly. "Yes, the Inner Eye can be a burden at times. It is not pleasant to know you will be sick. It does, however, give me time to plan, you see." She delicately pushed her cup in front of him and pulled his towards herself.  
  
"...now what?" he asked, turning her cup right side up.  
  
"Take out your book, my dear, and tell me what you can see in the cup." He pulled his textbook out and set it on the table next to him, turning to pages five and six where the table of contents told him he would find meanings for common symbols in the leaves. He glanced at Professor Trelawney, who waited. He turned her cup and stared stupidly at the soggy mush at the bottom.  
  
"Er-" he remarked intelligently. She looked at him disapprovingly. "Right, you've got... a dish... what's that? "Trouble at home." Sorry about that. Um... wavy lines? "An uncertain path." What is that, a frying pan?" He rotated the cup a bit. "Wait, it's an owl... "gossip, a scandal." He glanced up at Professor Trelawney.  
  
Frowning, she waved him to continue. "At least you're trying, my dear..."  
  
He flushed and glared back into his cup. "... Maybe a tennis racket? Or, wait, no. I think it's a violin." He consulted his book. "That means you have a big ego, Professor," he said innocently. "In that case, I don't know if I'm reading this right." He looked up at her serenely.  
  
She sniffed and took her cup back. She peered into it. "A dish? I think not - it's a cup, my dear, it means a reward is in sight. And the lines are certainly closer to straight than wavy, indicating progress! Dear, dear, you do see things negatively, don't you?" She rotated the cup a bit, not noticing his glare. "An urn; wealth and happiness. And, last..." she turned her cup once more," an umbrella," she looked up at Harry," means annoyances."  
  
He shrugged.  
  
Trelawney pulled his cup toward her next. "The axe... my dear, you will have difficulties." He said nothing. "The feather... you must concentrate harder, my dear, is what that means. The fist... dear me, an argument. Perhaps with Weasley? Yes, I think so..." Harry, looking into it from the opposite side of the table, had no clue where she was seeing these shapes and decided that she was making them up. The witch gave his cup a last turn and a grim smile flickered across her face as she peered across the table at him. "...and, the snake. Snakes symbolize enemies, my dear, remember that. Evil."  
  
This time he didn't bother to hide his glare. "Slytherins are NOT evil," he said through gritted teeth.  
  
She did not reply. "I think we will leave the lesson there for today, my dear. You will need to be more serious and concentrate more, as your cup showed. I perceive little aura around you, but it is there. Fair fortune until next time," she dismissed him, closing her eyes.  
  
Shoving his Divination book distastefully back into his bag, Harry was only too glad to leave. He crossed to the trap door and descended the silver ladder quickly, letting the door fall closed behind him with a loud 'thud.'  
  
As he made his way down the winding stair, he reflected on the period. Hermione was right; the class seemed very woolly. He thought that maybe he could have stood it if he'd had anyone else to share the experience with, someone to commiserate with. But one on one with Trelawney? Even after one lesson, he didn't know how much longer he could take it. He wondered, then, how Draco and Blaise's Arithmancy class had gone. He'd ask them at lunch, he decided, heading toward the Great Hall, looking forward to a break from classes for a while.  
  
Author's Note: Next chapter soon! In fact, I'm going to go eat lunch and then work on it... okay? ^_^ 


	16. Easily Offended, Hippogriffs Are

*cringes* I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry! I really have meant to update, but I just haven't had the time - or inspiration - to do so! Thanks mostly to BabyShiro for reminding me of the angry mob that would be waiting outside my house if I didn't update soon. ^_^() As usual, the disclaimers apply. I might occasionally use direct quotes from the book, but this is only because JK said it better than I could re-phrase it. She has my deep respect (until the fifth book, but that's another story... was anyone else highly dissatisfied with it?), and I mean no harm by using her wonderful ideas! And now, on with the chapter... finally...  
  
The excited chatter of students discussing their new classes greeted Harry as he stepped into the Great Hall. The conversations nearest him paused at the sight of the Boy-Who-Switched-To-Slytherin, but immediately resumed, too pressing to stay quiet for long.  
  
Throwing a glance toward the Gryffindor table as he went, Harry quickly crossed the Hall to his seat with the other Slytherins. Blaise and Draco had yet to arrive, so he set his bag on the bench next to him and began to eat, sitting a little ways down from Vincent and Gregory. The two infamous bodyguards to Draco seemed to back off when Harry was around. Draco had suggested that they weren't used to Harry yet, but Harry thought that the two were a bit tired of following Draco around everywhere, even if he was their friend. Harry had just begun his second helpings of stew when Draco slid into place at his left, and Blaise to Draco's left. The two were still discussing Arithmancy.  
  
"...can't see the point of class, yet, but my father assured me that it would be useful," the blonde was commenting.  
  
"Yes, I can see how it would be, I think. Professor Vector's a bit dull, though, don't you think?" Blaise asked. Draco shrugged carelessly and ladled himself a bowl of stew.  
  
Harry reached for the carrots. "Interesting class, then?" he said, glancing at the other two.  
  
Blaise nodded and continued eating, but Draco raised an eyebrow. "Not particularly. How was your Divination lesson? I hear Trelawney's a bit batty."  
  
Harry nodded. "You could say that. I'm the only one in the class, so-"  
  
Draco interrupted, surprised. "The only one?" He frowned. "That doesn't make sense." He stabbed a carrot with his fork.  
  
"She seems to think that other Slytherins' parents are afraid that she'll discover some dark family secret or another if their student attends her class." Harry's face darkened. "She told me that it wasn't a problem for me because I'm not a 'true' Slytherin," here Draco's eyes narrowed, "and because I haven't got any parents," Harry finished quietly.  
  
Draco had stopped eating. "That was a cruel thing for her to say, Harry," he said darkly.  
  
Harry smiled humorlessly. "You used to be quite fond of saying it, as I remember."  
  
Draco's eyes locked with Harry's. "I know. I knew it would hurt you, and I wanted to hurt you then. But it is completely inappropriate for a teacher to make such a comment or to want to hurt a student in such a way." He laced his fingers together and rested his chin on them, now looking at nothing, but thinking. "Harry, have you ever spoken with her before? Has she any reason to dislike you?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "Not that I know of." He picked up his spoon again and brought a bit of stew to his lips. "But I have a reason to dislike her, now, don't I?" He raised his eyebrows.  
  
Draco smirked slightly and nodded. "Give her hell, Harry."  
  
After lunch, Harry, Draco, Blaise, Vincent, and Gregory joined the rest of the Slytherins in heading to their next class, Care of Magical Creatures. The grass was damp from the previous day's rain, and the sky was a pale, cloudless gray behind the silhouette of Hogwarts castle. As they crossed the lawn to Hagrid's small cabin, Harry heard voices behind him and turned. He felt his heart sink. He hadn't remembered that they would be having these lessons with the Gryffindors. He noted with some surprise that Ron and Hermione were walking on opposite sides of the group, obviously upset with each other about something.  
  
He shrugged mentally and turned back to Draco, who was laughing about something with Gregory and Vincent. He caught Draco's eye and tilted his head questioningly.  
  
Draco smirked. "Wouldn't it be something if the great oaf's creatures ate Mrs. Norris?"  
  
Harry frowned slightly at Draco's calling Hagrid a 'great oaf,' but he had to laugh. "Yes, it would. I'd like to see Filch try to hang Hagrid by his wrists, though!"  
  
Draco caught the reference to the caretaker's threats in their first year and laughed.  
  
As they approached the hut, Harry could see that Hagrid and Fang were waiting impatiently by the door.  
  
"C'mon, now, get a move on!" he called. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here?" The Gryffindors had caught up to them by this time and were standing a little to one side. "Right, follow me!"  
  
For a moment it seemed to Harry that Hagrid would lead them into the trees. He felt a wave of dread wash over him; he had no fond memories of the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid skirted the edge of it, however, and they followed him for about five minutes until they reached a paddock of sorts. Harry frowned. It was empty.  
  
"Everyone gather 'round the fence here," Hagrid motioned. "That's it - make sure yeh can see - now, firs' thing, yeh'll want ter do is open yer books - "  
  
"How?" Harry turned; it was Draco, whose voice had turned cold.  
  
"Eh?" Hagrid glanced at the pale boy in surprise.  
  
"How do we open our books?" Draco repeated, pulling his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters out of his bag. It was bound with a length of rope. Harry flushed and took his out as well, which he had belted shut at the beginning of the summer. He glanced around; others, too, had found ways to keep their books from biting them.  
  
"Hasn' - hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" asked Hagrid, disappointed. "Yeh've got ter stroke 'em," he explained, seeming baffled that this hadn't occurred to any of them. "Look - " He took Hermione's copy from her and tore off the Spellotape around the cover. The book snapped at Hagrid, but he ran one finger down its spine and the book shivered, then fell open in his hand. He handed it back to Hermione  
  
Harry bit back a snide remark, not wanting to hurt Hagrid's feelings, but Draco had no such qualms.  
  
"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Draco exclaimed sarcastically. 'We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess?"  
  
Harry bit back a laugh and elbowed Draco, who quieted down disgustedly. In truth, Harry agreed with him, but he could see that Hagrid's confidence was waning.  
  
"I - I thought they were funny," the giant man glanced uncertainly at Hermione.  
  
"Draco," Harry said quietly, "I've always wondered. What do you have against Hagrid?"  
  
Draco looked at Harry in amazement. "You don't know?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "No. He's been nice to me ever since he rescued me from the Dursleys, and he was the first friend I had in the wizarding world. He's a bit odd, but perfectly friendly. But you didn't like him, even when you saw him outside Madam Malkin's that first day."  
  
Hagrid was talking to the rest of the class, a bit downcast, but determined to have a good first lesson. "Righ' then," he continued, a bit less enthusiastically. "Yeh know how ter use yer books... Yeh need the Magical Creatures. I'll get 'em, so wait here fer a minute." He jogged into the forest and out of sight.  
  
Draco was silent for a moment more. "I haven't got anything against the oaf himself. He's a fine fellow, I suppose, if a bit odd, as you say. But he's got to be related to the giants, Harry! Do you know anything about them? Binns mentioned the Giant Wars, but I don't suppose you heard about them growing up, of course." He frowned. "They killed so many of our people, Malfoys included. We were fighting against them, too," he added proudly. "And then, look at him! He's a groundskeeper at Hogwarts only because Dumbledore has a too big a heart. He should be in Azkaban, by all rights. Got into a bit of trouble in his third year, I heard, although my father wouldn't tell me exactly what about. He's been trouble, Harry. My father thinks he's a beast, like the dragons and such that he takes care of. He's never been as kind to me because he doesn't like my father." Harry decided not to point out that he didn't particularly like Lucius Malfoy, either. Draco didn't sound entirely convinced that Hagrid was so horrid as all that, but Harry couldn't exactly force his views on Draco. He just hoped that the two could learn to be civil to one another.  
  
At that moment, a squeal came from someone in the Gryffindor group; he thought it was Lavender Brown, who was pointing into the woods. Harry leaned to see around Gregory and was met with a bizarre sight.  
  
Hagrid was following into the paddock a dozen of the oddest creatures Harry had ever seen. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who was beaming.  
  
"Gee up, there!" he hollered, shaking the chains. The beasts drew near to the fence where the students were. Everyone drew back slightly. Harry glanced at Draco, not entirely sure that he could come up with an argument defending Hagrid's taste in pets just then.  
  
"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid grinned down at them, waving. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"  
  
Harry, now slightly over the shock of the half horse, half bird creatures, grudgingly admitted that Hagrid was right. The hippogriffs' feathers gleamed and blended smoothly with the horse hair. Their colors were deep and true, ranging from grays to roans to blacks, each beautiful in its own way. He thought the talons were rather less than beautiful, however, and kept his distance from the fence warily.  
  
"So," Hagrid rubbed his hands together, his eyes shining, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer -"  
  
Harry glanced around. The Slytherins weren't budging. Reluctantly, he took a few steps forward, not wanting to disappoint Hagrid too badly. He saw Ron and Hermione do the same, still not speaking to each other.  
  
"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is, they're proud," he cautioned them. "Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."  
  
Harry felt Draco's eyes on his back, knowing that the other was dubious about his trust in Hagrid.  
  
"Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid was saying. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt." He paused. "Right - who wants ter go first?"  
  
Harry felt most of the group back away behind him. He stood where he was, feeling rather alone. He had admitted that the things were pretty, but he didn't feel very good about approaching one. Restless, the hippogriffs pulled at their tethers and beat their wings. He bit his lip.  
  
"Ho one?" Hagrid asked, pleading.  
  
"I'll do it," said Harry quietly.  
  
He heard Draco's hiss behind him. "Harry, are you crazy?"  
  
He honestly couldn't answer that question, but he turned around and shrugged at Draco. "Do you want to do it?"  
  
"No...!" Draco recoiled.  
  
Harry climbed over the paddock fence, staying near to Hagrid.  
  
"Good man, Harry!" Hagrid beamed, enormously pleased. "Right then - let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak." He untied one of the chains and pulled the gray hippogriff away from the others, slipping off its collar.  
  
The rest of the class held its breath. Harry knew that Draco was cursing his stupidity silently by the way his arms were crossed over his chest and his eyebrows knit together ever so slightly. He grinned.  
  
"Easy, now, Harry," Hagrid bent down to talk to Harry quietly. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink... Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much."  
  
Harry's eyes began to water, but he didn't blink. He clenched his fists and stared steadily at Buckbeak, who regarded him sideways from one fierce orange eye.  
  
"Tha's it," Hagrid encouraged him. "That's it, Harry... now, bow..."  
  
Harry tried not to grimace. Exposing the back of his neck to the creature in front of him was about the last thing he wanted to do, but he did as he was told. He looked back up. The hippogriff hadn't moved.  
  
"Ah... Right - back away, now, Harry, easy does it -" Hagrid sounded a bit worried.  
  
At that moment, however, Buckbeak, bent down and sank into an unmistakable bow.  
  
"Well done, Harry!" Hagrid cheered, delighted. "Right - yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"  
  
Harry refused to let the Slytherins think he was a coward, even though none of them had stepped forward. Bravely, he walked toward Buckbeak and stroked the creature's beak several times. Buckbeak closed his eyes, and Harry was sure that, had it been a cat, it would have purred.  
  
Behind him, the class broke into applause. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see that Draco was grudgingly clapping, trying not to smile or reveal that he had been concerned. Harry grinned back, letting his relief at not being eaten show plainly on his face. Draco chuckled.  
  
"Righ' then, Harry," Hagrid's voice drew Harry's attention away from the blonde. "I reckon he might let yeh ride him!"  
  
Harry's hand stopped in mid stroke. Ride it? He wasn't sure he liked the idea of that. Hagrid, however, did not seem to notice his discomfort.  
  
"Yeh climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint," he instructed, "an' mind yeh don' pull any of his feathers out, he won' like that."  
  
He hesitated. A broomstick was one thing, but a hippogriff? Well, he'd trusted Hagrid this far. He put his foot on the top of Buckbeak's wing and pulled himself up onto his back. The hippogriff stood up. Harry looked uncertainly to Draco, who looked uncertain whether to be amused or concerned.  
  
"Go on, then!" roared Hagrid, slapping Buckbeaks' hindquarters.  
  
Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of Harry; he just had time to seize the hippogriff around the neck before he was soaring upward. It was nothing like a broomstick, and Harry knew which one he preferred; the hippogriff's wings beat uncomfortably on either side of him, catching him under his legs and making him feel he was about to be thrown off; the glossy feathers slipped under his fingers and he didn't dare get a stronger grip; instead of the smooth action of his Nimbus Two Thousand, he now felt himself rocking backward and forward as the hindquarters of the hippogriff rose and fell with its wings.  
  
Now Harry's only fear was how to get back down. Luckily, Buckbeak seemed content to head back to the ground after one lap around the paddock. Harry leaned back as the smooth neck lowered, feeling he was going to slip off over the beak, then felt a heavy thud as the four ill-assorted feet hit the ground. He just managed to hold on and push himself straight again.  
  
"Good work, Harry!" Hagrid congratulated him over the cheering from the rest of the students. Well, almost all. He noticed with a pang that Ron seemed determined not to clap, and Hermione was torn between them. She smiled at Harry and gave him a thumbs-up, but did not say anything. Draco was shaking his head incredulously, smirking.  
  
Harry slid off Buckbeak's back and gave the hippogriff a pat on its beak for carrying him safely back to earth. He walked unsteadily to the paddock fence. Around him, the rest of the class, a bit reassured by Harry's success, was climbing into the paddock. Draco, Vincent, and Gregory strolled toward him. Rather, Draco strolled and Vincent and Gregory trudged. Harry hid a smile. Even if they weren't terrible fellows, they could still never measure up to Draco's natural grace and elegance.  
  
"Think you're so great, Potter? Just because you can ride a hippogriff?" Draco's mouth was twisted into the familiar sneer, but his eyes held laughter.  
  
Harry smirked back, playing along. "Yeah, Malfoy? You think you could do it?" he challenged.  
  
Draco scoffed, "It's nothing. Let me through."  
  
Harry motioned to the others. Vincent and Gregory grinned and laced their hands together, providing a step for Draco. As he stepped into it, they lifted it abruptly, tossing him over the fence. Luckily for him, he landed on his feet, but he turned sharply and scowled. Harry smirked.  
  
"Alright, there, Malfoy? Maybe you shouldn't try Buckbeak after all."  
  
Draco sniffed and turned. "Come, Vincent, Gregory. Let us show Mr. Potter what we are capable of."  
  
Harry laughed and moved aside so that the two boys could clamber over the fence. He saw Neville on the other side of the paddock repeatedly run back from his hippogriff. He stifled a laugh. Poor Neville. He glanced at Hermione, who was petting the chestnut hippogriff rather hesitantly. Ron seemed reluctant to go near the creature. Perhaps he was still worried about the death prediction, Harry remembered suddenly. He was doubtful that anything Trelawney predicted would come true, but he knew from Ron's tone of voice earlier that he was really scared. He frowned. Perhaps he should talk to Hermione about that later.  
  
Shaking his head, Harry turned back to his fellow Slytherins and watched as the three carefully approached Buckbeak. Draco, determined not to be outdone, was first. He made eye contact with the hippogriff and bowed perfectly, the result of a lifetime of being part of a prominent, wealthy wizarding family. Buckbeak seemed rather more impressed with this than Harry's short nod, and immediately sank to his knees. Draco smirked and stepped forward to pat the hippogriff's beak. Draco turned back to Harry and put on his best look of disdain.  
  
"This is easy," he drawled. "I knew it must have been, if you could do it, Potter." Harry rolled his eyes. "I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" Draco continued to the hippogriff, scratching it behind its ears. "Are you, you great ugly brute?"  
  
Harry's laugh was cut short as Draco screamed. It had happened in a second. With a flash of deadly talons, Buckbeat slashed Draco's arm. Harry was horrified; he had forgotten Hagrid's warning about insulting the creatures. He rushed forward, dragging Draco away from Buckbeak while Hagrid tried to wrestle said hippogriff back into his collar before it could inflict further damage.  
  
Harry's robes were turning red from the blood streaming from the blonde's wound. Draco clutched at the front of Harry's shirt in pain.  
  
"I'm dying!" he moaned. "It's killed -"  
  
"Oh, hush, Draco," Harry broke in. "Hold your hand over the cut or you will bleed to death!" He was quite white; Draco looked like he was in real pain.  
  
"Yer not dying!" agreed Hagrid. He, too, had paled considerably. "Someone help me - I gotta get him outta here - "  
  
Hermione ran to hold the gate open as Hagrid picked Draco up easily and ran with him toward the castle. Blood splattered the grass as they went.  
  
Harry felt sick as he walked slowly up the slope. He knew that Draco would be okay. He felt momentarily sorry for Hagrid; it was a bloody awful thing to have happen on his first lesson. His shoulders sagged a bit. Vincent and Gregory walked behind him, subdued, and the rest of the Gryffindors and Slytherins followed. Pansy was crying.  
  
"They should fire him straight away!" she cried, distressed.  
  
"It was Malfoy's fault!" snapped Dean Thomas angrily. There was a buzz of agreement from the Gryffindors.  
  
Vincent and Gregory glared and stepped toward him threateningly, but Harry held out an arm to stop them. "No, it wasn't, Dean," he said quietly. "If it was anyone's fault, it was mine. I forgot about Hagrid's warning. Draco did, too. We were just fooling around; he didn't want to get hurt." Dean glared at him, but did not reply.  
  
No one said anything until they had reached the deserted entrance hall. "I'm going to see if he's okay!" said Pansy, and everyone watched her run up the marble staircase. Harry couldn't help but grin. He knew that Draco would be okay; Madam Pomfrey could mend anything in a second. He just wasn't sure how Draco would react to his first visitor being Pansy. He chuckled and followed the rest of the Slytherins back to their dungeon.  
  
"Don't worry," he said to Gregory and Vincent, who glanced up. "He'll be fine. Madam Pomfrey's taking care of him."  
  
Vincent nodded, but Gregory muttered, "She can't mend his pride."  
  
Harry nodded. This was very true. He hoped Draco would be back soon.  
  
By that evening, however, Draco had not returned. He didn't show up for dinner, either, and Harry wasn't sure whether to be worried or annoyed. He knew that the cut, while painful, hadn't been that serious. He knew Madam Pomfrey's skills, and couldn't see why Draco wasn't back yet. He rolled his eyes in sudden understanding. Of course. Draco would be faking it. What better way to get out of classes for a while? Harry shook his head, amused, as he re-entered the Slytherin common room after finishing his meal. Some things would never change. 


End file.
